Keys To The Tower
by Higuchimon
Summary: [story will be rewritten & this will be removed when the new version is ready] Imprisoned in luxury beyond compare. Cursed to never know the kiss of freedom again. One family's only hope is a knight who searches for keys hidden in the open. Their captor laughs at his attempts, for no one mortal can break the spell...
1. The Knight

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
**Fandom:** Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal  
**Title:** Keys To The Tower: Chapter 1: The Knight  
**Romance:** Durbe x Chris/Chris x Durbe  
**Word Count:** chapter: 2,636||story: 2,636  
**Genre:** Romance, Fantasy||**Rated:** PG-13  
**Challenge:** Diversity Challenge, section L, #11, a multichap that is a completely fictional setting.  
**Notes:** This is an AU with magic, knights, dragons, flying horses, and other such things. But no dueling with cards.  
**Summary:** Imprisoned in luxury beyond compare. Cursed to never know the kiss of freedom again. One family's only hope is a knight who searches for keys hidden in the open. Their captor laughs at his attempts, for no one mortal can break the spell...

* * *

_Crack_!

Durbe tightened his grip on Mach's mane as the pegasus's wings flapped harder in an attempt to keep them both in the air. He scanned the area warily, sliding one hand away from his mount's mane to rest on his sword-hilt.

"What was that?" he murmured to himself as nothing else happened. Mach moved forward, but only a breath or two, before the solid air that he'd crashed into the first time blocked their way once again. The knight errant reached out now, brushing the tips of his fingers against the invisible barrier. "_What_ is this?"

Mach neighed, shaking his head, but could offer no other answers. Durbe knew something of magic, but he'd never encountered anything like this before. He pounded one mailed fist on it, eyes narrowing as he heard nothing at all, but could still feel the strong presence of it wherever he moved.

"Let's go down and see what we can find," he suggested. Mach nodded this time and dived downward. Durbe kept his hand on the invisible wall the whole time, wondering just how far it reached.

_This must be it, then._ Somewhere on the far side of this wall there must be the hidden castle that he'd heard of. And the only reason he could think of to keep someone from a castle was if there were something in it than whoever cast this spell wanted no one to know of. Something or someone. He pushed that thought to the side for now. He would take this one piece at a time. Perhaps there was a way to get through the wall somewhere below. _If I created a barrier like this, where would I put the opening?_ The answer to that was simple. He would put it where he could get to it and no one else could, not without a great deal of trouble. The issue on that was that he didn't _know_ where whoever built this could get to easily.

One step at a time, he reminded himself. First to find out how far this wall extended and then to find the door in the wall.

Mach's hooves barely brushed the tops of the trees before howls erupted from all over and arrows and spears whizzed by them. Durbe ducked downward, urging Mach forward toward clear air, as he craned his head to try to find out where all of the weapons came from. He couldn't get a good look at them to see what kind of craftsmanship created them, but here in the high mountains, the options weren't that great.

Orcs, goblins, ogres, almost any of the fouler monster races. There were plenty of humans who could also lurk around here for any number of reasons as well. Or a mixture; some bandit gangs accepted anyone at all into their ranks, so long as they could use weapons well.

A bloodthirsty howl split the air nearly as well as the airborne weaponry had, and Durbe had only a moment to pull out his sword and prepare to fight for his life.

Out of the trees came some kind of armored warrior; Durbe focused his attention more on fighting than on identifying anything else about his enemy. It had two arms, two legs, a head, and a torso; he needed to know nothing more. It also seemed to have some ability to fly, as it turned easily in midair and struck at him with all of the strength at its command.

Well, Durbe knew all about how to fight in the air. He tightened his legs around Mach's barrel and swung his own sword, parrying the thrust his opponent intended for his chest.

"Who are you?" Durbe demanded, pulling his arm back to thrust. His enemy snarled, nothing coherent but only furious rage, and rushed forward to slash at Durbe. The knight errant managed to deflect most of the strikes, and the ones that he couldn't weren't able to get through his armor. Yet this was not an easy battle for him.

His enemy clawed at him with one free hand, more of that hissing and rage echoing from all around. Durbe balled up his other hand and slammed it with all the power he could muster into the other's armored stomach. From the hiss and rounded eyes, he surmised that hadn't been an expected tactic at all. Good. The more he could surprise the enemy, the better he liked it.

He didn't wait around for the other to recover, either. He swung his sword again, a satisfying crunch sounding as he sliced into the other's shoulder, and followed it up with another strike, this time higher up.

The armored opponent began to back away, flailing in the desire to get out of Durbe's range. The hail of spears and arrows had eased off as they fought, which Durbe preferred. It was much easier to fight if his mount wasn't trying to dodge attacks of his own.

He urged Mach to go up a little higher, hoping this would be out of their range if whoever else it was tried to attack again. He kept his eyes on the one flying warrior, wondering if this was the only one of them who could do that.

His battered opponent threw back their head and howled wordlessly. Durbe had no time to wonder about what that meant before two dozen armed warriors, each flying as easily as the first, rose up into the air from the forested slopes below, all staring at him.

"Who are you all?" Durbe growled. He had great faith in his own skills, but being outnumbered like this called for discretion as the better part of valor. Not to mention that the airborne weapons hadn't stopped coming, which argued for more people hiding where he couldn't see them.

"Not allowed! Not allowed!" The chant came from all of their throats. Something struck him as odd about it, but he didn't have time to consider it, not when they all shot toward him as if flung by the wind.

"Let's go, Mach!" Durbe shouted. Mach spun in midair and the chase was on.

Whatever these creatures were, they were fast. Durbe swerved first to one side then the other to avoid grasping hands and whatever else they kept throwing at him. At the same time, he had to keep some kind of watch out for the invisible wall, to ensure that he and Mach didn't slam into it.

A crash below him pulled his attention down just in time to see one of the chasing creatures falling. Nothing in front of him gave him any hint of what they'd slammed into, which led Durbe to believe it could only be the wall itself.

Ideas flickered through his mind and he crafted his plan in a single heartbeat. It might not work but it was worth the attempt. Crouching lower, he urged Mach upward, turning back as they did. The howling creatures that tracked him didn't seem to notice, not giving any change in their incessant howls of _not allowed_.

He didn't know what he wasn't allowed to do, but he planned on doing whatever he could anyway.

Faster and faster they flew, and whoever kept throwing all of that at him seemed to have found a limit to their supplies, as the painful rain ceased. That just made everything better in his opinion.

Marking a tree he'd seen on his way in, decorated with white streaks of lightning damage, he turned Mach a little more and flew straight ahead. The armored warriors coursed after him, single-mindedly howling for his blood.

Then, at just the right moment, he pulled Mach upward, far too quickly for any of those who followed to dodge out of the way. In a huge crashing clanging mess, the small army slammed into the invisible wall, collapsing into a defeated heap that fell out of sight.

Durbe watched until he could hear nothing more, not even the slight sounds of any survivors getting up again. Curious, and cautious enough not to want to leave anyone to come up and put a spear through his back, he urged Mach downward, watching for trouble.

Passing through thick-leaved trees and streaks of mountain stone, he saw a slim trail that wended its way through the mountains, following along a rushing river. Cast on either side of the river rested the armored remains of his former opponents. Nothing remained of them save that armor. Durbe frowned; this wasn't something he'd encountered before. Yet the longer he watched, the more he began to wonder.

_Were they animated armor? Was that all?_ He'd heard of such creations, woven by the spells of a powerful enchanter, it was said. Why this enchanter made them no one knew, but they were frequently used as guards for precious treasure.

That made the goal of his quest that much clearer. He turned Mach toward the trail, going much slower now, still keeping his senses alert for more warriors of any breed, as well as that invisible wall.

But even after they crossed the area where the wall had been high above, there wasn't anything there now. Excitement slipped through Durbe's veins, better than the best wine.

Crossing here didn't seem very different from crossing any other range of mountains, unless one knew the signs that _should_ have been there and weren't. Prey species of all kinds roamed freely, revealed to Durbe's keen eye in the presence of tracks and refuse and tiny signs of lairs. That argued well for most of the higher predators not being there at all. No signs of traps being set by those who did not have the claws or fangs to hunt for themselves, no traces of fire to reveal the presence of dragons.

He doubted most dragons would've wanted to lair here anyway. Those strange suits of armor would not be the kind of neighbors the great creatures wished.

Seeing fish splash through the waters of the river reminded Durbe that he hadn't eaten in some time, and he considered the benefits of stopping.

_No. Not until I find out what's going on here._ He would prefer not to be slowed down in attack or retreat just yet. Not to mention he didn't have a safe place chosen to eat and none of this area had what he wanted.

Perhaps at the tower. If the tower existed. If he could get into it if it did. If it were worth trying.

So he pushed onward, though he didn't begrudge Mach when the mighty stallion took the time to crunch up grass. At least Mach could eat on the move for a while.

He kept one hand near his sword at all times as they moved along the trail. Still no sign of any other animated armor or any other guardians. That did not reassure him at all.

Without warning, the trail widened ahead of them, revealing a broad meadow. The river coursed through it, bisecting the flower-dotted grass, and on the far side, hard against an arm of the mountains, there rose a tower that blended so neatly into the gray rock that if he hadn't been looking for it, he might well have overlooked it at all.

High it rose above, though not so high that it would stand out from the mountains. Whoever designed it wished it to remain overlooked. A single window pierced the walls, so high that no one could safely jump to it or from it without risking life and limb.

No one ordinary, that was. Durbe touched Mach's side gently and the pegasus rose up into the air. Durbe still kept watch; he didn't want to risk anything happening to himself or his long-time companion. Whoever had set this place here was not a friendly person. He could feel eyes on him from every direction and not a single one of them gave a feeling of being friendly to visitors.

A balcony extended from the window and as Durbe drew closer, he could see the shape of a room behind it. A light of some kind filled it as well, one that grew brighter with each passing moment, as the sun began to set around this time, casting shadows in the valley.

Durbe paused Mach before landing and took a moment's breath. "Who lives here?"

For a moment he wondered if there wasn't anyone there at all, as he received no answer. But then a very curious voice replied.

"I do."

From somewhere deeper in the room, he came. He was tall and slender, and he moved closer to the balcony with wide blue eyes that reminded Durbe of the sky. He could see right away that the stranger's hair fell long and unbound, a shimmering shade of silver that put Durbe in mind right away of the full moon.

"Who are you?" Durbe asked, a thousand more questions fluttering in his throat.

"You can call me V," the other said, resting one hand on the doorframe. "But who are you? How did you get here?"

Durbe shrugged. "With a great deal of effort." He'd heard many rumors about the one who lived in the tower, and chose his words with the utmost care. "Why are you here?"

V did not reply right away. He seemed to be considering the question with far more care than it deserved. The answer wasn't entirely what Durbe expected when it came. "Because I can't be anywhere else."

"Why not?" The part of Durbe that urged him to help all those in distress demanded to know more. If V truly were a prisoner here, then it was his task to free him, no matter how difficult it was to do.

V dropped his head. He hadn't yet moved past the doorway. "Because I can't." He lifted one hand and moved it forward, resting on thin air. He pushed for a moment, and Durbe could see the strain in his features. "I can't leave here."

Yes. Durbe would rescue him. No one deserved to be locked up like this unless they'd committed some horrible crime, and Durbe did not think V had done so. "Why not?"

V shook his head softly, eyes still downcast. "I'm bound by a spell, sir Knight. There are questions I cannot answer."

Durbe's fingers tensed in Mach's mane. "Who imprisoned you here? Is there a way that I can free you?"

The other's lips curved upward now. "The first I cannot say. As to the second, it can be done. But it isn't easy."

Durbe felt a hint of a smile on his own lips now. "That only makes it all the more worthwhile to try. What would I have to do?"

"There are four keys to break through the spell to release me," V replied at once. "Each key is hidden in a different location, defended by guardians both magical and mundane." He started to say something else, then stopped, a faintly annoyed look flickering over his well-made features. He swallowed, then started again. "You cannot find two keys in one day, but that won't be much of a problem. They're far enough apart that even with your winged companion there it will take you at least a day to get to where each is hidden."

Durbe nodded, keeping all of that in mind. "Is there anything else that you can tell me?"

"The ... key to finding each key will be different every time. Do not presume that what works once will work again."

Durbe racked his brains for anything else he would need to know. "Can you tell me where I can find them?"

Now V did smile, a sad and somewhat lonely expression. "Not at all. Because I do not know."

**To Be Continued**


	2. The Gilded Cage

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
**Fandom:** Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal  
**Title:** Keys To The Tower: Chapter 2: The Gilded Cage  
**Romance:** Durbe x Chris/Chris x Durbe  
**Word Count:** chapter: 2,639||story: 5,265  
**Genre:** Romance, Fantasy||**Rated:** PG-13  
**Challenge:** Diversity Challenge, section L, #11, a multichap that is a completely fictional setting.  
**Notes:** This is an AU with magic, knights, dragons, flying horses, and other such things. But no dueling with cards.  
**Summary:** Imprisoned in luxury beyond compare. Cursed to never know the kiss of freedom again. One family's only hope is a knight who searches for keys hidden in the open. Their captor laughs at his attempts, for no one mortal can break the spell...

* * *

Durbe set his jaw firmly. He wasn't going to back down from this quest, especially before it had even begun.

"Can you give me any idea of who might know where the keys are?" The more he spoke with V, the more he began to wonder how much the other could tell him. Not how much he knew, but how much could pass through his lips. The way that he phrased things, the odd hesitations and turns of speech, those spoke of enchantment to him, and one that he did not like at all.

V tapped one finger on his arm, a thoughtful tilt to his head. "I could suggest going that way." He waved one hand to the northern edge of the valley. "But I have no idea of how long you'd have to search or what else you might encounter along the way. I was not put here in order to be rescued, but to be kept from that happening."

Durbe leaned forward, eyes gleaming with a sudden eagerness. "Can you tell me why someone put you here?" He'd asked about the name before, but perhaps this would give a better answer.

"So I can create tools for him to use. You've seen some of them already. He comes at times to visit me." V shook his head, a hint of sadness touching his features now. "I would rather be far away from here, but he is a powerful sorcerer who demands my services and I cannot tell him no."

Something in the way that V said that sent a repulsed chill down Durbe's spine. But he did not flinch away. Instead, he held his head up with pride. "You may rest assured that regardless of what this sorcerer wishes, I _will_ free you."

V smiled now, a touch more pleased than before. "I believe that you will try. But I must warn you, you're not the only person who has found their way here and attempted to free me. Nor, I fear, will you be the last."

Durbe ran his fingers through Mach's mane. "I'm going to try anyway." If he even thought about abandoning this quest, he would be shamed as a knight.

V remained where he was, unable to pass through the doorway. His eyes drank in the slanting sunbeams as the day waned into evening. He looked at Durbe again. "I cannot pass out of here, but you can enter if you wish, and leave again. Would you like to come inside and dine with me?"

Durbe did not hesitate. He dismounted Mach and removed his partner's bridle, gesturing to the broad expanse of grassland beneath the tower. "Is it safe for him to graze?"

"Yes. None of my creations will harm him," V assured him, stepping back as he gestured for Durbe to enter the room.

Durbe looked around curiously as he did; while he'd heard many tales of such, he'd never before been in an enspelled tower. He wondered what it would be like without all of the enchantments that held it together.

As it was, it was a marvel the likes he'd never imagined, even with all of his reading and researching. While from the outside, the walls were granite, to blend in with the mountain, the inner walls here gleamed as white as marble. Long tapestries, woven with intricate designs that pulled at the eye, hung on the walls as well, as did a few paintings of expert artistry.

A large table took up most of the room, each side having a long plush couch set there. From the ceiling, directly over the table, there hung a silver-blue crystal from which a soft glow illuminated the entire room. Bookshelves of red walnut filled the remaining space on the walls that weren't taken up by doors.

"You can wash yourself in there," V said, gesturing towards one of those doors. "Dinner will be ready when you come out."

Durbe wanted to know exactly who did the cooking; surely there weren't servants here? All that he'd learned told him that those who lived in towers such as this had no company at all. But those questions could wait for another day. Instead he stepped into the indicated room and found himself surrounded by yet more opulence. Snowy marble and porcelain stretched in every direction, with towels hanging from racks, and an assortment of soaps and other toiletries that put almost everything else he'd ever seen in his life to shame.

Whoever this sorcerer was and whatever his purpose for keeping V here, he clearly did not stint on anything for comfort.

Durbe set aside some of the more cumbersome parts of his armor, washed himself as well as he could, and ran an ivory comb through his hair. He wanted to look his best, as much as he could, for V. Already the thought of spending more time with him after the quest was successful slipped through his mind. Having dinner wasn't just to get his hunger sated, but to see if he could learn more about the one he wanted to set free.

Once he was in good enough shape, he returned to the room he'd left V in. His question about the food and servants remained mostly unanswered, but on the table there now spread out a selection of food fit for a king's table. So far as Durbe knew, even Nasch did not eat like this.

V stood at the head of the table, a light, cheerful smile on his lips, and gestured toward the right hand couch. "Please, take your ease, Sir Knight."

Only then did Durbe realize a failing that he'd made. He bent his head swiftly. "I should've introduced myself. My apologies. I am Sir Durbe."

"A pleasure it is to meet you, Sir Durbe," V said, moving to sit. Durbe settled onto the indicated couch as well. "I admit there are few visitors here, and fewer still that I would wish to spend any time with."

Durbe nodded, eyeing the multitude of dishes spread out before them. "It isn't an easy place to find."

"It's meant that way." V filled his plate with several different dishes and Durbe followed suit.

Every aroma seemed to speak of the food being cooked perfectly, and when Durbe took his first bite, his taste buds agreed with his nostrils. Never in his life had he encountered food that was everything food had ever been touted as being.

"If this place were easy to find, then more people would come seeking me," V said after several long minutes where they paid more attention to their plates and what was on them than anything else. "That isn't what he wishes. I'm to have as much time without being interrupted as I can."

Durbe looked even more curious as that. V might not be able to tell him directly who his captor was, but perhaps he could let enough clues fall for him to figure it out for himself. He knew of several of the evil sorcerers, mages, warlords, necromancers, knights, and other beings of foul intent in the world. Perhaps this was one that he'd met before.

V's tongue darted out to caress at a chocolate covered strawberry. Durbe found his attention fixated for a few moments, before he forcibly turned his head away and took a long drink of wine that could make the rarest vintage from Kuragari, the wine capital of the known world, taste like little more than sour, badly preserved grape juice.

He did not see the smile that curved V's lips for a few seconds, replaced as he began to turn back by the usual polite mask of a host.

"What will you do, when I've freed you from here?" Durbe asked, picking up an apple and taking a bite of it. Sap as sweet as honey flowed into his mouth, reminding him of fruit he'd eaten with Nasch when they were children.

V tilted his head back, eyes closed for a heartbeat or two. "Find my family. I haven't seen them in too long."

Durbe thought there were more words behind those, perhaps chained by some spell. There was far more magic at work here than he had first suspected. He would have to tread more carefully than he'd thought.

"Do they know where you are?" They must not have; surely they wouldn't have let him languish here if they knew. Durbe recalled little of his own family, but he knew well that he would not have let Nasch or Merag remain imprisoned and not at least attempted to rescue them.

V sighed, sounding like the wind gusting through trees, one finger plucking at his long silver hair. "They know. But they can no more free me than I can free myself."

Kept away from the world and from his family, for some sorcerer's twisted purposes. With each passing moment, Durbe grew to dislike V's captor more and more, and grew even more determined to see to it that this spell ended up broken.

Durbe wasn't certain of when the meal ended; he hadn't eaten properly in some time, and with an endless array of fresh food before him, he couldn't find a place to stop. He scarcely noticed at all when his eyes slid together, his head nodded, and he fell asleep on the far too comfortable couch.

* * *

V waited until Durbe's breathing evened out before he moved. The drugs would keep the knight completely asleep until the early morning at the very earliest.

That gave him time to take care of a few matters of his own. He rose, clearing the table with a motion of one hand, and made his way into one of the dozen rooms his prison held.

In other circumstances, the tower would be a glorious place to live, and he had plans to recreate some aspects of it in the event he could ever leave here. Such as how a dozen or more rooms could take up almost no space at all. One of his better inventions, if he did say so himself.

The room he entered now held another of those inventions but this was one he hoped he'd never have to duplicate somewhere else. If he could ever gain his freedom, it would not be necessary.

Three mirrors, polished to a sparkling gleam, framed and linked together in twisted silver, floated in the air in the center of the room. On the floor before the mirrors stood a small strip of granite, with three recesses in it. V cupped one hand before himself and breathed into his palm, causing three gemstones to appear.

Emerald for Thomas. Kunzite for Michael. And for their father, a perfect moonstone.

He set each one into the slot for it, and waved one hand over the three, activating the spell set there. Each mirror turned milk-white, no longer reflecting the room he stood in, but nothing at all. Then, one by one, the scene in each cleared, revealing a different person.

"Don't tell me someone else thinks they can free you," Thomas spoke first, a weary sort of sigh in his words. They'd all heard the promises far too many times for any of them to take them seriously anymore.

"Who is it?" Michael was more cautious in his words. He hadn't completely lost his faith that someone would free V one of these days.

Byron Arclight remained silent, only looking at his son with his head tilted back. Of then all, he was the one who would have had the most eyes turned on them if they could appear in public once more. V tried not to think on that very often. One of his goals was to find a way to break the curse on his father, above and beyond his own release.

"His name is Sir Durbe. He hasn't said where he's from, but he flies a winged horse," V reported. His fingers tightened just a little. "He is different from most of the others, from what I've seen so far."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Sure he is. How long has he been there? Half an hour? An hour? He's going to be on his best behavior right now anyway."

V could not disagree with that. Instead he just looked at his youngest brother and their father.

"What's he like?" Michael wanted to know. "And you said he has a flying horse?" His brow furrowed. "That sounds familiar, now that I think about it."

That didn't surprise V in the slightest. If any of them stood a chance of knowing someone's hidden past, it was Michael. Digging up what was hidden was one of his hobbies.

"What have you told him?" Byron asked at last, playing with the tip of his braid. It was a habit he and his oldest son shared, and one that on occasion brought more comfort to V than he could bring himself to admit. Seeing his family in the mirrors wasn't a proper substitute for being with them in the flesh.

"Only what I can." They knew the limits of what the curse allowed him to say and how he could wiggle around them. "You'll see him soon enough, I'm certain, Thomas."

The slash of his brother's smile was a very familiar one. "I do hope so. He's coming this way first, then?"

"Unless something turns him around, yes." V matched Thomas's smile with his own. "I expect him to be there in a day or two. His steed should move quickly enough."

"I'll have to set up something fun for him, then," Thomas said. He drummed his fingers on the table before him, eyes dancing with the kind of maniacal glee that he only showed on occasions like this. "If he's a knight, he must be used to fighting. I'll have to find something more fun to do with him."

V knew he would keep an eye on that. Thomas's antics were always fascinating to watch.

"What else has happened?" Byron asked. V almost winced; a father was always a father, no matter how cursed. He could see the toys scattered around where the quasi-child rested, some of them in more battered conditions than others. For all that he could sound as adult as he'd ever been, he still remained a child in form and to some degree in mind.

"We had dinner together," V told him. "He's still sound asleep."

Michael tilted his head a little. "The potion?"

"Yes." V had to hope that Durbe wouldn't notice anything unusual, or he would have far more explaining to do than he really wanted to just yet. Though if Durbe took it poorly this early, then that did not bode well for what might come afterward.

Thomas snorted under his breath. "Just dinner, though?"

V could feel his cheeks heating just the tiniest fraction. "He remained a gentleman throughout everything."

"Good." Byron appeared to lose interest in the conversation, picking up one of his balls and bouncing it around. "Put him with the others if he changes."

And with no more than that, his image faded from the mirror. V did not need the order. He would have done so even without it. He wanted free from this place, and needed the help from someone on the outside to do it. But he didn't have to go with just anyone.

"You ate a strawberry in front of him, didn't you." Thomas wasn't asking a question and V's cheeks reddened even more. That was all the answer either of his brothers needed, with Michael falling into deep snickers and Thomas rolling his eyes.

Sometimes V wondered why he wanted to see these idiots again, before he remembered how much he loved them.

**To Be Continued**


	3. The Quest Begins

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
**Fandom:** Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal  
**Title:** Keys To The Tower: Chapter 3: The Quest Begins  
**Romance:** Durbe x Chris/Chris x Durbe  
**Word Count:** chapter: 2,643||story: 7,908  
**Genre:** Romance, Fantasy||**Rated:** PG-13  
**Challenge:** Diversity Challenge, section L, #11, a multichap that is a completely fictional setting.  
**Notes:** This is an AU with magic, knights, dragons, flying horses, and other such things. But no dueling with cards.  
**Summary:** Imprisoned in luxury beyond compare. Cursed to never know the kiss of freedom again. One family's only hope is a knight who searches for keys hidden in the open. Their captor laughs at his attempts, for no one mortal can break the spell...

* * *

Durbe rubbed the back of his head, trying to get his thoughts together as he looked Mach over. He still couldn't believe he'd actually fallen asleep so easily. Yes, he'd had a long day, and yes, having some of the finest food he'd eaten since the last time he dropped by to see Nasch and Merag had clearly contributed, but he usually at least made certain Mach was taken care of before he fell asleep!

Someone seemed to have done that for him, however, as the pegasus clearly had eaten well, slept in a comfortable stable, and now pranced in place, ready to take off as soon as Durbe himself was ready.

_V couldn't have. He can't leave the tower._ That marked another item on the list of questions that he had for the mysterious young man. The more he thought it over, the more he realized that he knew very little about V. He _wanted_ to know much more than he did, for a multitude of reasons. But there was only so much that one could ask when two people had only known each other for a handful of hours.

"I'll be ready to go shortly," Durbe assured Mach, who nuzzled against him, wide eyes conveying his eagerness to depart at Durbe's earliest convenience. Durbe rubbed his ears for a moment, then headed back toward the tower.

He'd been more than a little surprised to find a secondary exit from it, though like the one at the top, V couldn't leave through it either. This one led to the warm stable where Mach had spent the night, and it was every bit as elegantly appointed as the rooms at the top where V spent his days in a bower of beauty.

A long spiral staircase pierced the tower, crafted of marble and gleaming with gold fixtures. Durbe walked up it, noticing the doors at each landing. From the outside, this place appeared much smaller than the inside would have suggested.

_Dimension expanding spells?_ It seemed the most logical answer to him. Those were useful indeed.

He'd tested a couple of the doors, mostly out of minor curiosity, and found they were locked, with no sign of where the keys might be. That didn't surprise him; this was not a place for casual visitors. If there were other captives here, then finding the true keys to the tower would release them as well.

Which led right to where he was going now: letting V know that he was ready to leave on his quest.

When he entered the top chamber, the first sight he saw was V, seated on one of the couches, brushing out his long mane of silver hair. Durbe quickly averted his eyes to stare at the balcony instead.

"Mach is ready, so I'll be on my way," he said. That river of light-touched hair called to him and he made a point of not answering it. "I hope to return with the keys soon."

"You won't," V replied, a smile in his voice. "It will take months to find them all. But I've been here long enough to know patience."

Durbe wasn't going to argue over that. He had too many questions that he could ask to waste time. "Who took care of Mach? Do you have servants here I haven't seen?"

V shook his head slowly. "I'm the only one who lives here. But I have little friends, much like those you fought on the way here." His lips curved upward. "These take care of what needs I have outside of here. Such as tending to the steeds of noble knights."

Before Durbe could gather his thoughts enough to answer that, V lifted up something from beside him and held it out. "This is for you."

Durbe accepted without hesitation, glancing down at it. All he saw was something wrapped in rich dark blue silk. As he parted the coverings, V spoke.

"This will help you to keep in touch with me while you're away. I can't help in everything, but it will come in handy, I'm certain." Again his lips touched up into a smile. "And I will enjoy seeing the outside world through you."

The knight could feel his cheeks heating a trifle and fought to keep it down. "Thank you," he said. The item turned out to be a mirror, set in a frame of wrought silver, with a glimmering pale blue gem set in the base of it. He'd seen hand mirrors before, but never one as finely crafted as this. "It's beautiful."

"Keep it safe. It can be replaced, but it would take some time to get it just right," V told him. "To activate it, you must be outside of the tower. Set your hand on the gemstone and call my name."

Durbe nodded, carefully rewrapping it. He would have to find a good place in his saddlebags for this.

"Now, I've had provisions added to your packs, enough for at least a week or two," V continued with a somewhat experienced air to his words. "While I don't know where the keys are, I do know a little of the type of area they're in, and it won't be often that you can find shelter or food out there."

That didn't surprise Durbe. Anyone who wanted to keep someone locked up like this wouldn't make freeing them easy. He was more than a little surprised that there was a way to do it at all. But magic had its own strange ways about it, and he'd barely touched the edges of those.

"Thank you." Very seldom had Durbe embarked on a quest like this with such help. He hoped that bode well for the future. "No matter how long it takes me, I will free you, V."

V's hand brushed against his, the barest breath of skin on skin, but his was so _warm_. "I believe that you believe that."

Was that despair there? Durbe turned enough to meet those glorious eyes head-on. "Believe that I will do it." For he meant that with every scrap of his great heart. If he failed, it would not be because he stopped trying. Only death would take him from this task.

Again just a small hint of a smile. "Then the sooner you begin, the sooner you'll be done."

Durbe nodded, heading over to the balcony. V followed along, stopping at the entrance with the ease of habit. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting the morning breeze tease at his hair. Durbe stared outward, torn between wanting to touch the glimmering strands and wanting to keep his hands to himself like a proper knight.

He called for Mach, partly to remove himself from temptation and partly to get moving.

"Good-bye, V," he said as he mounted his stallion. He searched for something else to say but nothing truly suitable wanted to rise to his lips. Instead, he raised one hand in farewell, nudged Mach's sides, and took off into the air. They circled over the tower once or twice, and as he rose higher, he saw V's hand raised as well.

Soon, he promised himself, soon he'd return with the keys and set V free.

* * *

"Man, you sure know how to pick them," a very familiar voice said from behind V. He didn't look around. He wanted to keep sight of Durbe while he could. "He's a bit on the short side, isn't he?"

V shrugged, still watching. "That won't make a difference, if he can do it." Durbe was hardly in sight by now, little more than a faint image that he had to strain to see. "He has faith in himself."

"So we all saw." A second voice, female to counter the other's male, spoke up. "What do you think his chances are?"

That got a bit of a shrug. "Perhaps better than I wanted him to think." He never let any of those who tried to find the keys know how much he wanted it to happen, or how little he thought their chances actually were.

Silence; he knew the two were looking at one another, communicating in that silent way of theirs. Finally, with no more sight of Durbe to be had, he turned from the door and gazed on his 'guests'.

Gauche lounged back on one couch, a cup of the best wine the tower had to offer in one hand. As always, his flame-colored clothes matched his fire-red hair, and his grin spoke of secrets and mocking amusement. Patterned over one eye was a design V knew quite well, giving one the sight to see many hidden magical forces.

Droite stood a short distance away; she hadn't bothered to get herself a drink, but that didn't surprise V at all. Of the two of them, he'd never known her to take so much as a drop when she was on duty, and she lived her life on duty.

Her attention rested on him as he turned toward them. She bore the same kind of tattoo over one eye that Gauche did, only with hers in blue, to counter his red. Rising from her back fluttered a pair of wings, black and blue to match her hair.

"And what brings the two of you here?" V wanted to know. He had few visitors and these two were not often among them.

"The boss heard about your new little friend," Gauche said, taking a long drink of his wine. That also did not surprise V. Their boss, his captor likely knew about Durbe the moment the knight entered the hidden valley.

"He has the right to try," V spoke softly, not moving from where he stood. His hair tossed a little, though the breeze had died down. "That can't be taken away."

Gauche waved the hand that wasn't holding the drink. "No one said anything about that. We're just here to let you know he's going to be keeping an eye on this one."

V refused to let a spark of hope light up. His captor seldom watched those who tried to set him free. Either they did something that ignited V's own ire and he found a way to dispose of them or they failed one of the trials along the way, and he didn't have to bother. But those who were watched, those who had Gauche and Droite sent after them, those who _stood a chance_...

He restrained his eagerness and moved toward his favorite seat, filling his glass as he did. "What makes him that special, then?" Yes, Durbe wasn't like some of the others; he thought more of his stallion than of himself, and he'd avoided staring when V made a point of doing things that most people would stare at. What did the other know that he didn't yet?

"Don't know. The boss just said he's going to watch, and if he gets too far, we'll probably have to go take care of him."

Again V had to fight back the tingle of hope that wanted to surge through him. He did not know _enough_ and that irritated him more than he wanted to let on. But that was why these tests and trials existed in the first place. Not only would they show Durbe's true nature, but it would give him the chance to see what he himself thought of that true nature.

"You sent him out by the graveyard?" Droite asked, and V nodded. He had few secrets from them, more because he had no way to keep them than anything else. But that was the way that Durbe set off, so anyone with eyes could've seen it.

It would take Durbe at least an hour or so to reach that. The valley was much wider than it looked, and with the spells set around it, time and distance could and did do strange things. With a tilt of his free hand, he called forth his own portable mirror from where he kept it and set it on the table nearest to him. Durbe's mirror would only reflect him in it and transmit his voice, by his own design. There was no need for him to know that V had company.

"I kind of hope this one comes through for you," Gauche commented. "One of them has to, sooner or later, right?"

It was not the first time that Gauche expressed something like that. Nor, V felt, would it be the last.

But for all of his attempts to deny it, he could not help but hope that Gauche was right this time.

* * *

Durbe wrapped his cloak tighter around himself as they headed off in the direction V pointed out the day before. The morning chill hadn't yet left the air, especially this high up. He was used to it, given all the flying he did, but that meant that he knew how to dress warmly, not that he didn't feel it. He kept a watch out for any of those creatures that had attacked him on his way in as well, just in case they wanted to try a second attempt.

Wherever they were, however, it wasn't around there. Nor was there any sign of those other automatons V mentioned.

_They're probably at the tower._ That was where he would keep them, if he were in that position.

Movement caught his eye and he leaned that way, curious to see what might have found its way into this secretive place. What he saw surprised him: a half-dozen small humanoid metallic walking statues, much like those fighters, all moving in the same direction that he was.

Those had to be the automatons, after all. Even more curious now to see where they were going, he urged Mach to follow them.

What he found wasn't at all what he'd expected. He'd thought perhaps some kind of magical garden or the like. What he saw made him stare.

Perhaps the generous could call it a garden, if they were inclined to consider a group of statues a garden. These statues were unlike any that he'd seen before, as he dipped down for a better look. When their faces weren't racked with terror, there were other emotions, ones that he did not wish to examine very closely. Rage, anger, and in one or two cases, lust.

He reached into the bag he'd stored the mirror in and pulled it out, fingers brushing against the gem almost by instinct. He had to know what this was.

"Yes, Durbe?" V's voice came from the mirror and he pulled his attention down to it. The statue garden exuded an almost irresistible pull and he had to fight to ignore it.

"I didn't want to call you so soon, but I wanted to ask: what is this? These statues?"

A long sigh slid out from V. "I thought you'd ask. I wasn't certain if you'd notice them, though."

"How could I not?" Durbe shook his head. "They're almost hypnotic." He did not dare to stay there very long. He didn't want to risk being caught by whatever the magic of this place was.

"That, Durbe, is the graveyard of all of those who have tried and failed to gain the keys and free me from here. It's kept here to remind any who try what the price of failure is. When - if - you fail, your statue will join those." V did not sound happy about this at all. "I can see them from where I am as well. They exist to remind me too."

Durbe set his jaw at those words. "I should get going then." He didn't wait for a farewell. He simply slid the mirror back into the wrappings, nudged Mach onward, and set his course for the first key.

**To Be Continued**


	4. The Cold Weapons

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
**Fandom:** Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal  
**Title:** Keys To The Tower: Chapter 4: The Cold Weapons  
**Romance:** Durbe x Chris/Chris x Durbe  
**Word Count:** chapter: 2,556||story: 10,464  
**Genre:** Romance, Fantasy||**Rated:** PG-13  
**Challenge:** Diversity Challenge, section L, #11, a multichap that is a completely fictional setting.  
**Notes:** This is an AU with magic, knights, dragons, flying horses, and other such things. But no dueling with cards.  
**Summary:** Imprisoned in luxury beyond compare. Cursed to never know the kiss of freedom again. One family's only hope is a knight who searches for keys hidden in the open. Their captor laughs at his attempts, for no one mortal can break the spell...

* * *

Decisions, decisions, decisions. Thomas Arclight hated having to make choices, especially when he had so many of them. What he really wanted to do was try out everything he possibly could against this new suitor, and see if they could still walk at the end of it. If they could, then _maybe_ they would be good enough for his brother.

Maybe. He hadn't made his mind up yet. Michael and Father would still have to apply their own tests, and it was still Chris's decision in the end. But if this newcomer made it through without giving up, then he would at least be worth it if Chris decided he _did_ want to do something with him outside of the tower.

Outside of the tower. Thomas groaned, throwing one arm over his head as he did. He hardly remembered what being outside of the tower was like at all. So many years trapped inside that he doubted any of his old fans were still around anymore.

Maybe some of their children were. Or grandchildren. Maybe. With the loss of years, he couldn't be certain how many generations might've passed.

Like always, however, he pushed that to the side and sat back up to look over what he had in store.

_He'll have to deal with the puppets, of course._ He had a fine set of them, and any damages would be repaired by dawn's light. But what else? What else could make it all but impossible for that knight to get here and claim what he wanted.

He gestured briefly, a book floating over to him in response. Magic wasn't nearly as natural to him as it was to Chris, but he did what he could, and he had a lot of practice anyway.

If anyone else had been there to watch him, he might well have made far more of a production out of turning pages than he was now. But without an audience, Thomas wasn't inclined toward his usual pyrotechnics.

Though that idea did tease at him some. _I wonder if that would do any good._ He did like the thought. And he had time to play with it; even when the knight arrived in his general area, it would take time for him to locate this tower, and Thomas could take his own time before he answered him.

He would need at least three barriers; the spell that bound them all there demanded certain acts before any potential suitors could work their way through to them. Practice allowed them to pick which ones took the most time, or the least, depending on what they wanted at any given point.

Long ones, he decided, tests and trials that would make certain that not only would his character be revealed, but it would eat away at his determination and make him think long and hard about if he really wanted this.

Thomas smiled as he began to choose which defenses to activate. He hated living in this tower with all of his soul, but there were a few perks to it. And this was only one of them.

* * *

He stirred the drink in his glass, listening to his two servants as they reported the situation at V's tower. It was much as he'd expected; yet another young and foolish knight who thought he could defy the odds and win the mage free.

As if he would ever allow that to happen. He would allow the hope in all of their hearts to grow, but only to a certain point. As soon as they thought they were free, then he would remind them quite thoroughly of who they belonged to.

But until then, he would enjoy watching them all dream of days of freedom. The higher the hope, the better he would enjoy crushing it.

Not to mention that people made the _best_ faces when they realized how broken and defeated they were. He could never, ever get tired of that.

It made waiting months to see them all the better.

He sipped his drink again and imagined what the future held.

* * *

Durbe ran over everything V had told him in his head. The path to each key would be different. That could mean so many things. He couldn't even entirely count on it being true; if V had never left the tower, then all he could know about where the other keys were would be whatever the one who locked him up in there told him. And there wasn't any guarantee at all that the one who did that told him the truth.

That did make his own job harder, but short of the keys actually being near V's own tower, he didn't have anything else to go on. He had only the vaguest notion of where he was going, but he had to believe that he was going to end up where he needed to be. Otherwise, he might as well give up already. That wouldn't happen.

Instead, he considered all the likely options, and then very nearly smacked himself. _There's a town about three valleys over._ He remembered seeing it on the map when he'd been planning the trip here in the first place. _It's supposed to have some of the greatest centers of magical learning around. I'll stop and ask there._

Perhaps they could tell him something, perhaps not. V's direction hadn't been very specific, and he hoped to at least get a more accurate reading from them. If he could find anyone who'd talk to him. Mages could be stubborn.

His eyes narrowed at a thought. _The town is very close to here. What if one of the sorcerers there is the one who imprisoned V here?_ It would make sense. They could keep an eye on their captive and not have to move very far from home, if at all. He would have to be careful whom he chose to speak to.

But with a more definite goal in mind, he urged Mach onward. Stopping there would also mean he could stretch out the provisions that V had given him for a little while longer. He still had coin of his own, but without a place to spend it, it would be little more than weight in his pocket. He would have to ration both money and provisions to last him through this quest.

_He said it could take months, but also that the trip between them could take at least a day._ The discrepancy needled at him. There would be tests and trials; V had spoken of those. But could they really take that long in order to work through?

As always, the only way to work it out remained to go through it and see for himself.

He could feel eyes on him. He had ever since he'd first begun to make his way into V's valley, but this seemed stronger than ever before. Carefully he rested one hand on his sword and looked around, trying to find the source of his unease.

Between one breath and the next it came: a blast of icicles out of a clear blue sky. Mach neighed in startlement and Durbe crouched down, doing all he could to protect what areas of his steed he covered. Another blast came, some of the sharp-edged weapons flashing through Mach's mane. Others clattered off Durbe's armor, and he blessed the craftsmen who made it strong enough not to be penetrated by normal means.

Even if clearly enchanted icicles didn't count as normal means.

_All right. We can't just stay around here._ He wasn't sure if these were somehow the work of V's captor or something else altogether. What was far more important was not getting hit by them in any kind of fatal way.

Barely had the words passed through his mind when a third raft of icicles blasted toward them, and Durbe jabbed his heels into Mach's sides, sending them downward. This time he had absolute proof that another mind guided them, since the icicles swerved to follow them. It told him nothing of who or why but he put that on his mental backlog for the moment. Instead, he swerved and shifted, watching as the icicles moved with his every attempt to evade them.

_Let's see if they're better than those automatons were._ Now he nudged Mach forward, checking the area for any useful bits of landscape as he did. The valley remained surrounded by tall and sturdy mountains, but none of them were close enough even at Mach's speed put the same tactic to use.

He would have to improvise. Perhaps that would throw his opponent off enough that it would work.

At his silent command, Mach rose higher and sped forward faster, keeping a fair distance from the ground. He threw looks around constantly, doing all within his power to give the impression that he was just trying to outrun the icicles. This wasn't entirely untrue; he just had something else in mind at the same time.

No matter how fast he flew, though, the sharp weapons remained far too close for his personal comfort. He set his jaw and nudged Mach once more. They'd worked together for a very long time and he knew his partner would get the message.

Mach flew upward a fraction higher, and the icicles followed. Then, downward he plunged, so quick that human eyes might well have had trouble following him. He could tell the icicles kept on his trail; frozen wind whipped all around him, warning him.

A bare breath from the ground, so close that he could've touched it if he reached out his hand, Mach pulled to the side, and rose up again. Durbe listened, ready to hear the sound of sharp ice breaking.

It did not come.

_This is not good._ He spared one more look, had to see it for himself, and threw himself off of Mach's back a heartbeat later, missing being impaled by the ice by a breath alone.

Mach hadn't risen too far up before he dismounted, if what he did could even be called that. Durbe landed on the ground and dared not remain there, no matter how much he wanted to. Instead he threw himself to the side, and this time he didn't completely miss the attack. One icicle buried itself in his cape, pinning him to the ground.

More evidence that an intelligent mind guided them: the rest of the icicles flew upward and hovered, sharp and pointy ends all directed at him. The one that kept him where he was seemed to be the biggest and heaviest of them all. He yanked harder and harder at it, trying to work it out of his cape, and then scrambled at the back of his neck for where the cape attached to his armor. If he couldn't get the icicle out of the cape, then he'd get the cape out of there altogether.

Again he could hear the icicles slamming toward him, and he couldn't find the latch on the cape, his fingers fumbling from the plunging temperature and the fear that animated icicles were trying to kill him didn't help either. He'd faced a thousand strange weapons in his life, but that didn't mean he wasn't afraid of them.

With a powerful neigh of anger, Mach shot down once more, hooves slamming into the flight of icicles a moment before it began to move toward him. Smaller shards rained down, but they weren't nearly as intent on killing him as the larger ones had been. Mach ramped and stamped and neighed with all of his might, bracing his hooves on air and kicking at icicles, whirling around to stomp on them with his front hooves, knocking another one to the side with the fold of his wings.

In less time than it takes to tell, Mach and Durbe stood side by side again. The offending icicle in Durbe's cloak had met the same fate as its companions, stomped to nothing by Mach's fierce attack. The knight rubbed the pegasus's cheek gently.

"I owe you my life again, Mach," he murmured. This wasn't at all the first time that Mach had saved him, nor would it be the last. He breathed in carefully, looking around for any sign that there would be another attack.

Long minutes passed, both of them wary and watchful. Finally, Durbe lifted up his cape and stared at the huge rip in it. _This will take a while to get fixed._ He wasn't a good tailor by any means. At least he didn't need it for defense. For now, he detached it, a task made easier when he wasn't trying to fight for his life, and stuffed it into one of the saddlebags.

"Let's get going. I hope whoever sent that is tired out for now."

He still felt as if someone watched him. He hoped it was V. The thought of whoever else it could be did not sit well at all.

* * *

"He's better than I thought he would be," Gauche said, his voice tinged ever so faintly with approval. "And that pegasus helps a lot."

Droite nodded, the rainbow colors of her wings blurring as they beat swiftly. She seldom touched the ground, finding it far more useful to fly wherever she needed to go. "We'll have to take that away from him sooner or later."

Chris listened without comment, keeping most of his attention on the mirror where Durbe and Mach remained reflected, carrying on their journey. He wished that he had some insight into what the knight thought now, or who he suspected of this attack. It would make making up his own mind so much easier when the time came.

But while his spells could give him that knowledge if he chose to cast them, it would be easier if Durbe were in the tower to do so, and even in that case, it still wasn't right to go looking into someone's mind like that, not without better reasons than he had right now.

Instead, he turned his thoughts to what else could happen. Though he'd told Durbe that the trip from one key to another could well be of a day's passing or more, there was so much else that he hadn't been able to say. The dark sorcerer whose thrall he lived under insisted that anyone foolish enough to attempt to rescue him be sent out as ill-prepared as he could manage. Thus the spells that sealed V's lips when Durbe asked certain questions.

That sorcerer watched them now, V didn't doubt. With Gauche and Droite there, that was as good as saying that he was under surveillance. Which didn't need to be said at all, as he could watch V whenever he so chose. But the sorcerer liked reinforcing the fact that he ruled V's life so completely.

It was one of the many things that made V hate him so much, and long for the day when he could unleash his own might against his captor and determine which one of them was truly the greater sorcerer. He'd crafted certain of his automatons to do certain things when the time came. And it would come. No matter how long he had to wait for it, he knew it would come.

**To Be Continued**


	5. The Tavern Hour

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
**Fandom:** Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal  
**Title:** Keys To The Tower: Chapter 5: The Tavern Hour  
**Romance:** Durbe x Chris/Chris x Durbe  
**Word Count:** chapter: 2,632||story: 13,096  
**Genre:** Romance, Fantasy||**Rated:** PG-13  
**Challenge:** Diversity Challenge, section L, #11, a multichap that is a completely fictional setting.  
**Notes:** This is an AU with magic, knights, dragons, flying horses, and other such things. But no dueling with cards.  
**Summary:** Imprisoned in luxury beyond compare. Cursed to never know the kiss of freedom again. One family's only hope is a knight who searches for keys hidden in the open. Their captor laughs at his attempts, for no one mortal can break the spell...

* * *

Up above, the sun had just begun to arc downward. Durbe's stomach clamored loudly at him, reminding him that breakfast had been far too long ago. Lunch of some kind would be required, especially if he had to fight anymore. He didn't want to rule out that he might; the dark mage whose spell he sought to unravel wouldn't make any of this easy.

_The village should have a tavern of some kind._ He hoped it would; mages had to eat just like anyone else did. _I wonder how their magical food would compare to V's._ What he'd tasted in the tower had stood head and shoulders over everything else he'd ever eaten in his life. He didn't know much V had to do with that, though.

The more he considered it, the more he realized that he didn't know all that much about V in the first place. That the man was beautiful stood first and foremost in his mind. He'd seen lovely specimens of men, women, and others in his life, but V stood out among them all. He would stand out among anyone, no matter where they were.

He knew that V remained trapped in the tower by magic and that someone had done so on purpose, to keep V working for him, and that V had a family somewhere. Aside from that, he couldn't think of anything that he truly knew about V himself.

_I'm not even certain if that's his name._

And yet he couldn't turn his back on this quest. The answer didn't require that much soul-searching, however. _Once he's free, I can get to know him. He's a free person, or should be. No one should be kept locked up the way he's been._ And if it turned out he was wrong on some level for this...

Well, Durbe had made mistakes in the past. He knew ways to fix those.

For now, his stomach rumbled even more, and he knew Mach had to want something as well, more so than the simple grass he'd had until now. A good hot mash would probably go over very well, and a good rubdown as well. After what he'd done to save Durbe, the knight intended to see to it that he got all of that and more.

They crossed a low crest of hills, a new valley opening up beyond there. From the east there trailed a long silver stream, which circled around the valley in a near circular fashion. Durbe checked it out curiously, and found himself wondering if the wizards here had had something to do with that.

_It looks as if the stream started over there, but something moved it to __**there**__,_ he noticed, looking from one spot to another. A stream's course could be changed by any number of non-magical ways but since this _was_ a wizard's valley, he wasn't going to completely rule out options.

The village itself rose up on the circle of land defined by the stream. 'Village' might not have been the proper word; 'town' seemed more like it from Durbe's perspective. While some of the buildings were of ordinary stone and brick, and some of them even woven of grass or tree limbs, others rose up high and tall, of marble and glass and other materials he had no names for.

He landed Mach in front of the town, near where the gates stood guarded only by two statues. Nothing about them gave any clue as to what they were supposed to be, be it male or female, human or other. Robed and hooded, they gave the impression of watching him even without eyes to do so with. Durbe straightened himself, brushed off his armor, and stepped forward.

He made no more than three steps toward them before a hand of invisible ice wrapped around him, preventing him from moving any more. Twin voices rang around him, echoing like a great bell.

**Who are you that would set foot in this town? Speak the truth or pay the price.**

Durbe kept his head up and stared from one of the statues to the other, wondering if they caused this somehow. He didn't give much time to wondering, however.

"I am Sir Durbe, a knight errant. I've come here to seek advice from the wise folk in this town." He wasn't certain if he should name the exact nature of his quest and decided not to do so until he had no other choice.

The hand that held him eased up a small bit. **Speak a lie in this place and you will know pain, for it is not permitted that any lie to our people here.**

Durbe nodded at once. "I understand." He could feel more of the restraints lifting as he spoke. "May my steed and I enter?"

**You are granted one day and one night to rest within our walls. After that, you must depart.**

Not the friendliest invitation, but he chose not to argue about it. The rest of the restraints faded away and he brushed himself off again, more to settle himself than anything else. He glanced once more at the statues. "Where can I find a wizard to speak to?"

But this time, no answer at all came, and Durbe glowered at the statues a little more. _They could at least tell me that much._ Yet still they remained silent, and he shook his head, dismounting and taking Mach's reins to urge him inside. Clearly those who devoted themselves this much to the art didn't do things like others did.

From above, he hadn't noticed any people, only the still and silent buildings. But now that he was inside, people of every kind thronged in every direction. Men, women, children, creatures of magic, some who bore aspects of all of those, and more that Durbe couldn't identify right away.

"Hey, need a hand?" The voice came from one side, but when Durbe looked, he didn't see anyone there at all. A chill breeze touched him on the other side, and he looked there, only to yet again find no one.

"I could use some help," he said, holding onto his temper now by will alone. "If you'd be so kind."

Another puff of cold air, and this time Durbe looked upward. There, floating casually on his side, was a young man a little younger than he was, with frost-white hair and laughing blue eyes. A long shepherd's crook dangled loosely between his pale fingers. He didn't stay where he was, but floated casually around Durbe.

"That depends. What do you need help with?" There was a sense of quickness and light to him, as well as a smile on his lips that seemed almost permanently etched there. Whether that smile meant joy or terror could go either way, Durbe felt.

Regardless, he made up his mind quickly. "I need to find two things: a wizard who can help me find a magical key and a tavern where I can get some food, spend the night, and make sure my pegasus is well taken care of."

The chill one pursed his lips, a hint of a wind whistling through his teeth as he did. "That's pretty difficult." He switched around to Durbe's other side, almost as quick as the wind itself. "But you got lucky. I can help with all of that."

He gestured with his staff down one street. "You can find a row of taverns that way. And a lot of them have wizards in them. I bet you anything one of them could help you with a key." He tapped his fingers against his lips. "But I'd buy them something to drink first. Once you get a few tankards into them, most wizards will talk about anything and everything." He tapped again. "But if you see one wearing all red with tattoos, don't try it with him. He can drink anyone but me under the table."

"What?" Durbe tried to absorb all of that but the other only laughed, a rippling, tinkling kind of sound, like the first snowfall of winter, and then launched himself upward, disappearing a matter of seconds. Durbe stared after him, not entirely certain of what to think of any of that.

At the least, though, he had directions toward some taverns. It would be a start.

* * *

The row of taverns turned out to be exactly what the strange boy had said it was. A long street, possibly two of them if what he saw at the far end was accurate, with taverns of every kind on both sides. People surged in and out of them in varying stages of sobriety, most of which on the 'not very' side.

Durbe watched them for a few moments, lips pursed in thought, before he picked one at random and headed toward it. There didn't appear to be any peacekeepers selecting who could go in and out of it, which he'd seen at some of the more upper class taverns in other parts of the world. He peeked around the back and saw a stable, with one or two empty stalls and a teenager of indeterminate gender filling water buckets.

"Excuse me," he called out, "might I have a word?"

The teenager looked over toward him, then took a few steps closer. Durbe still couldn't make out anything more about them, as their hair was tucked underneath a tight-fitting hood, and their features gave no indication of anything beyond a life of hard work under the sun.

"Something I can help you with?" Even the voice wasn't indicative. Durbe focused on what really mattered at the moment.

"Who do I need to speak with to arrange a room for myself and space for my pegasus? And can you take proper care of a pegasus?" They weren't common mounts by any means, not even in his homeland. He tended to do most of Mach's grooming and tending by himself, for that very reason.

The other took a long look at Durbe and at Mach. "You'd have to ask m'dad about that. He's inside at the bar. But I can take care of your horse 'til he says one way or the other." A quirk of the lips that Durbe guessed was a smile. "Horse can't go inside anyway, right?"

So far as Durbe thought, Mach probably had better manners than most of the people he knew. He kept that behind his lips. "I won't be all that long." So far, he didn't find himself all that impressed by this wizard's town. It seemed much like any other town in this area, and if he couldn't find someone before he had to leave, it would be a wasted trip no matter how magnificent it was.

He stepped inside, looking around until he spied a burly bald man at the counter, rubbing it down with a piece of leather. Almost in that moment, the man looked up and saw him.

"Whatcha here for?" he asked, gesturing to the rows of mugs behind him. "We've got some of the best drinks in town."

Given that this tavern looked much like all the others in the area, with little to make it stand out, Durbe wasn't certain of that. He knew better than to argue with someone who could be serving him drinks at any moment, though.

"I want a drink, some food, a room, and a stall for my pegasus," he recited, having said this to many tavern keepers in many taverns over many years. "I'm also looking for any kind of a sorcerer, wizard, or mage who can help me locate a magical key."

The bartender rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully. "Well, the first bunch of that's pretty easy to get. We do get a lot of mages around here too, but I can't promise any of them would be able to help you out."

That didn't surprise Durbe either. He shrugged. "I know it'll take some time." Which meant the sooner he got started on this, the better.

"I know a couple of them that claim they know everything that's been hidden or can find it out. I can send 'em your way and you can see if it's what you need."

"Better than nothing," Durbe agreed. "Bring them what they want to drink when they show up." Even if the strange boy hadn't said so, buying someone drinks in exchange for advice was a long-standing tradition, and one he didn't mind carrying on.

The bartender nodded, and Durbe went back outside to make certain Mach was being well taken care of before he settled in for his own meal. The stable hand wasn't experienced, but at least knew to give Mach the biggest stable they had free, and how to take care of every other part but his wings. Durbe would see to those himself later.

Once settled in for dinner, Durbe watched out for any mages to arrive. In relatively quick succession, three of them did, all settling down at Durbe's table once gestured that way by the bartender. Durbe plastered a polite smile to his face, bought them all at least two drinks each, and wondered when someone who actually knew something would arrive.

* * *

He stepped into the bar just when Durbe began to think he should spend the next day trying more of the others. He stood taller than almost any of them there, wrapped in a well-made robe of fine green velvet, looking out over the people gathered with a slightly amused air. Durbe looked toward him only out of curiosity at first, before the power in those violet eyes caught at him.

Everyone else got out of his way as he strolled to where Durbe sat, toying with the remains of his last drink. The most recent mage to try to insist that he knew something about how to find mystical keys, and who probably couldn't have found a real key if his life depended on it, vacated the seat without the stranger even looking at him.

Durbe straightened himself up, eyeing the stranger in deep curiosity. "And you would be?" he asked as the other sat down, making the seat entirely his own. The bartender hurried over, a fine crystal goblet in one hand, full to the brim with a wine of a vintage so old and rare that one drop would've cost more than what everyone else in the tavern had to drink that night.

"Names are powerful weapons, Sir Knight. No one hands them out without care, especially a mage," the other replied, after taking a long sip of his drink. "I don't think it's my name that matters, however." He rested his gaze on Durbe. "But what I know. And specifically, what I know about magical keys."

Durbe did not move a muscle, save to lift one eyebrow just a little. The other smiled. It wasn't the nicest smile Durbe had ever seen.

"Specifically," the newcomer murmured, so low that only the two of them could hear it, "keys to get into the tower where the sorcerer V is being kept prisoner."

And as those were words that Durbe had not spoken to anyone in this tavern, taut tension rolled throughout his shoulders. "And if it is?"

"Then we have something to speak of. And perhaps a bargain to be made." The other smiled again, and Durbe found it no sweeter than he had the first time. "Would you care to listen to what I have to say?"

Durbe spent only a few moments to consider his options. This was clearly someone who knew something, though where he'd gathered his information remained to be seen. To turn aside now would waste a golden opportunity.

"I'm listening."

**To Be Continued**

**Note:** You get a point if you can identify who gave Durbe directions.


	6. The Seeds of Doubt

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
**Fandom:** Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal  
**Title:** Keys To The Tower: Chapter 6: The Seeds of Doubt  
**Romance:** Durbe x Chris/Chris x Durbe  
**Word Count:** chapter: 2,570||story: 15,666  
**Genre:** Romance, Fantasy||**Rated:** PG-13  
**Challenge:** Diversity Challenge, section L, #11, a multichap that is a completely fictional setting.  
**Notes:** This is an AU with magic, knights, dragons, flying horses, and other such things. But no dueling with cards.  
**Summary:** Imprisoned in luxury beyond compare. Cursed to never know the kiss of freedom again. One family's only hope is a knight who searches for keys hidden in the open. Their captor laughs at his attempts, for no one mortal can break the spell...

* * *

"What is it you can tell me?" Durbe wanted to know. He didn't know for certain if he could trust this new stranger, but he wanted to take any chance that he could in order to find those keys. The more information he got, the better. "And what is your price for it?" There was very little that was free in the world, and information wasn't one of those options.

The stranger chuckled softly. "More than you could ever imagine, and most of it I don't think you'd want to believe anyway." He did not speak of a price.

Durbe didn't take his hand off of his own drink. The city and the inhabitants of it were steeped so strongly in magic that he didn't entirely trust what might happen if he did. It wasn't impossible that he could get drugged even if he kept hold of his drink the whole time. The mage here, however, didn't seem the type to try that, at least not from the few minutes they'd spent talking to one another.

"What can you tell me that I can use, and which I would believe?" He'd heard that speaking with magic-users required the ability to think around corners. He hoped he could manage that.

"First, what is it that you truly wish? To free the sorcerer V, I presume. Or so you think." A slight smile tilted the other's lips, but he said nothing more on that matter.

"Yes." Durbe wasn't going to hide it, since the other knew of his quest anyway. Those had almost been his first words when he'd come over.

Again that smile and Durbe hated it already. "What I can tell you is this: the keys are not always something that you can hold in your hand."

That didn't surprise Durbe either. "Is that all?"

"No. Your quest will take much longer than you think it will, because each key is protected in ways that cannot be described, and which change every time. Each key has a guardian, and you must defeat the guardians before you can claim the key for yourself. The guardians are each of different types, and each one is a powerful opponent, one that must be brought down."

Durbe lifted his head, thinking. "Monsters?" That would make sense. Set monsters to protect the valuable treasure that could release the far greater treasure.

"You could call them that. I can't tell you what they are. You'll have to see them each for yourself."

Durbe found himself grateful the other didn't offer that smile once more. He'd seen it enough already. "Is there anything else?"

The mage swirled the wine in his cup. "As I said, I can tell you a great deal. But what you choose to believe is what matters. You wish to free the sorcerer. Have you asked yourself why he's imprisoned in the first place?"

Durbe started to open his mouth to answer, but then closed it again. He'd considered it but he hadn't thought about it all that much. He hadn't had the time until now. Yes, he knew that he didn't know V very well. That thought had hovered on the back of his mind for some time. But hearing this question gave a slightly different shade on matters.

"Do you know why?" Durbe asked. If this stranger could be trustworthy on the matter of the keys, then perhaps he could be trusted on other matters as well.

Of course, Durbe didn't want to completely believe him for the keys until he found one and could test the information like that.

The mage did not answer right away, choosing to sip at his wine and look contemplative. Durbe breathed in harder, taking a drink of his own. If the other wished to test his patience, then he would pass that test easily enough. One didn't earn knighthood by being hasty, much less survive the experiences of a knight errant.

"I know that not everyone can be trusted at face value, Sir Knight. And that there are those who are kept away from others for the good of all." At last the mage spoke, and Durbe at once knew he was choosing every word with absolute care. That made him listen all the harder. "I know that mages are among those who should not be trusted easily, and I say that _as_ a mage."

If he uttered something to the effect that he was different, then Durbe decided he would ignore every word the other had said from the moment he entered.

Instead, the other leaned forward. "And that includes me, of course. Whether you choose to believe me is your decision, Sir Knight."

That didn't make Durbe any more inclined to trust him, but at least he didn't feel the impulse to abandon everything right now and write it all off to a waste of his energy and time. He considered what had been said so far carefully. None of it clashed especially with what V had told him, and he hadn't forgotten that V was not a completely trustworthy source of his own, thanks to the geas that bound him.

Now the other leaned back, confidence still dripping from him. "You should also do more research of your own. It's only wise to learn all that you can, isn't it?" That smile had not left him. Durbe thought it looked as if it had been plastered onto him. "And I can tell you what would be a profitable line of investigation."

"But will you?" Durbe countered. "What do you gain from all of this?" The other still hadn't named what he wanted and that didn't set right at all with Durbe. Someone who offered everything but asked for nothing was not all to be trusted.

"Satisfaction that the right thing was done," the mage replied at once. Durbe rolled his eyes. As if he were going to believe that. There might be some who would act like that, but this man wasn't one of them. "And of course, once you've settled your quest to your own satisfaction, I would be honored if you chose to grant a small monetary reward."

Ah, there they were. Durbe expected something like this. Knights and nobility he could trust to act for rewards other than money, but aside from that?

Something about that caught his attention, though, and he took another look at his ever so helpful conversation partner. _What kind of monetary reward would he want?_ Every speck of the other's clothing and the way he moved and spoke told of wealth that he already had. Durbe didn't think he was of noble blood himself; the attitude was wrong for that. In his experience, trueborn nobility and royalty didn't fight so hard to project their authority. It was as much a part of them as their own skin was.

Yet this man went to a great deal of trouble to show that he had authority here, even with just the gesture of having the barkeeper bring him what he wanted unasked for. It could be written off to being a mage in this city of wizards, but Durbe thought otherwise.

Before he could ask for more details, the mage waved his hand in a gesture calculated to be casual. "We can speak more of that once your quest is settled. You may rest assured that what I will ask for will not cause you or anyone you care about any harm whatsoever." He leaned forward again, his eyes catching onto Durbe's.

"If you would learn something of interest, then look for information concerning a family named _Arclight_."

Durbe raised his eyebrows. "And what do they have to do with all of this?"

"Look them up and you'll find out. The more you know, the better, correct?" The mage tipped his goblet back and drained the last of his wine from it before he rose to his feet. "There's nothing else that I can tell you now. I know that it wasn't very much, but that's the point of these quests, isn't it? That you learn on your own with only a little help from others."

Durbe rolled his eyes. He didn't even try to stop himself. "Thank you," he replied, more from the sake of courtesy than anything else. What he'd learned really hadn't been that much, but every little bit did count. "Do you think your little help could include a direction?" He tried not to show the biting sarcasm in his words. He didn't think that he succeeded very well.

"I suppose I could do that much," the other agreed, the corners of his mouth rising. "Search until you find a tower much like the one the sorcerer is imprisoned in. You can find one that way." His quick hand gesture indicated the same direction that Durbe had already been traveling in. "It won't be exactly the same, of course. And now, farewell."

Durbe had his mouth open to ask another question, but the mage took two steps away and before his foot took a third, he vanished. Nothing at all remained, not even a shred of his cloak, nor the goblet he'd drunk from.

_Well. He's very good at that._ Durbe looked down at his own drink and decided tomorrow would be a better day for research and traveling onward both.

* * *

Chris hadn't taken his eyes off of the mirror in far too long. They burned and stung with anger that he could not put into words. He wanted to think otherwise. He wanted to _believe_ otherwise.

_He spoke to __**him**__._ There in the reflection sat Durbe, his wine cup still in one hand, a thoughtful look in his eyes. And the sorcerer who had imprisoned Chris and his family here had only left moments earlier.

Chris didn't grind his teeth. Didn't throw everything in his room around until it was nothing but a shattered mess. But he wanted to. He wanted to destroy _something_ until there was nothing left at all.

Of all the luxuries that his prison offered, that was not one of them. Anything that somehow broke or was broken mended itself within moments, so quickly that there wasn't any actual satisfaction from doing so in the first place, and all of his destructive spells were blocked off from him.

He trusted Durbe. He had trusted him. He _still_ did. And yet there the knight had been, taking wine with that foul _thing_.

The mage wanted him to know this, Chris knew. He hadn't been watching Durbe when the mirror flared to life, showing the interior of an unfamiliar tavern. Nor did any words come from the image. The focus shifted between the two, and while Chris had many talents, the reading of lips wasn't one of them.

He thought they'd spoken of information, and he definitely seen the mage frame the word 'Arclight'.

_Don't lose yourself. You know what he's like,_ Chris reminded himself sharply. His captor would go out of his way to shatter Chris's hope.

Even building it up by sending him someone who could pose as the perfect rescuer, someone who knew nothing of the origins of his problem.

Chris stared down into the cup he'd all but forgotten he was holding and threw it against the wall without looking at it, enjoying the satisfying sound of it shattering. He barely had time to blink properly before the cup once more rested on his table, as flawless as it had been before.

He made up his mind in a heartbeat and reached to connect the communications mirror to his family.

"We have a problem," he said, not bothering with the usual greetings. All three faces looked back at him, Thomas's more concerned than the others.

"Did something happen to your knight?" The middle child's tone rippled between amused and teasing, but Chris knew he was worried anyway.

"I don't know if he's 'my knight' at all," Chris said, not quite able to bring himself to look at them. "I saw him at a tavern with _him_."

A deeper silence than just not speaking at all fell between the family members. It was Micheal who broke it.

"What happened?"

Chris gathered his thoughts carefully. As much as he wanted to warn them of what happened, he wanted to be _certain_ of what had happened. "Gauche and Droite left not that long ago. I was reading, when the mirror activated. There was no sound. It was him; Durbe wouldn't know how to do this."

At least, he didn't think Durbe would. His fingers dug into his palms as he forced himself to continue. "I saw them both, talking to each other in a tavern. I think it was at the wizard's town." He knew it existed; he didn't know the name of it.

"What did they _say_?" Thomas demanded to know, his voice a low, sharp hiss. Chris found a small smile on his lips and wondered what it was doing there. This wasn't even close to funny. And yet the thought of his brothers, especially Thomas, being so angry over this warmed his heart.

"I don't know. There wasn't any sound." He picked up his cup and refilled it. He needed a lot of stiff drinks to handle this. They all knew what he did, that their captor arranged it, then.

Michael shook his head, but not to deny what his brother said. "What are the chances that he's doing this just to throw your knight off the proper track?"

That hadn't occurred to Chris. He'd been too busy being furious that the two spoke to each other at all. "It's possible," he allowed, enjoying the cool wine to quench his hot fury.

"He'll be here soon enough, no matter what," Thomas added. "I can find out for myself."

A trifle more of the tension ebbed away under those words. Chris knew calling his family had been the right idea. "Watch yourself, though. If he truly is in alliance with _him_, then we don't know what his actual mission is." Aside from tormenting them all with the promise of freedom.

None of them could die of old age nor at the hands of any normal weapons. Their captor made certain they knew that very early on. That wasn't all he'd made certain they knew either.

Thomas only smiled, a look that would've sent many people backing away slowly from him and keeping an eye on what he did with his teeth. "I always watch myself, big brother."

Chris let himself relax a fraction before he turned his attention to Tron. His father's masked gaze hadn't turned from him at all throughout the entire conversation. Now he spoke up.

"You should watch yourself as well. Since he sent the image, then he has some plan."

For a few moments, he sounded so much like he had in the long ago days that Chris's heart twisted even more than it already was. Then Tron smiled brilliantly, bounced up, and spun off giggling. Chris let out a long sigh. It hurt so much to see his beloved father like this and not be able to help him.

_He'll be Byron Arclight again one day,_ he promised himself, as he'd done so many times in the past. _And we'll be out of here._ His eyes narrowed as he broke the connection to his family. _With or without Durbe's help._

**To Be Continued**


	7. The Tale of the Past

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
**Fandom:** Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal  
**Title:** Keys To The Tower: Chapter 7: The Tale of the Past  
**Romance:** Durbe x Chris/Chris x Durbe  
**Word Count:** chapter: 2,698||story: 18,364  
**Genre:** Romance, Fantasy||**Rated:** PG-13  
**Challenge:** Diversity Challenge, section L, #11, a multichap that is a completely fictional setting.  
**Notes:** This is an AU with magic, knights, dragons, flying horses, and other such things. But no dueling with cards.  
**Summary:** Imprisoned in luxury beyond compare. Cursed to never know the kiss of freedom again. One family's only hope is a knight who searches for keys hidden in the open. Their captor laughs at his attempts, for no one mortal can break the spell...

* * *

Durbe loved libraries. He always had, though he'd never had the chance to spend as much time in them as he would've liked. Training to be a knight took up most of his time. He didn't regret it, but whenever he had the chance to lurk in a library, and if nothing else more pressing called to him, he took it.

The library in this town put so many of those that he'd seen in other places to shame. He didn't think he was all that surprised; this was a library created by _mages_, after all. Not only would it be magical, but it had been created by magic and this building reflected that, inside and out.

From the outside, it appeared as a simple two-story building, one that could be overlooked if one's interest wasn't in books or the information contained within. No one stood outside to watch the comings and goings of patrons: no one visible, anyway. Durbe suspected spells existed to do the work of guards.

Whatever those spells might be, they did not hinder him as he stepped inside, every muscle taut and tight with anticipation. He wanted to look up that name the strange mage had mentioned. The thought would not stop itching at his mind until he at least tried to learn something about it. This would be a good place to begin.

On the inside, everything about the library changed. There weren't two floors here. He didn't think he could count how many there were. Moving stairs and floating platforms offered access to all of the higher ones, and there were people moving on all of them. It looked to him as if there were more people here than actually lived in the town.

_Do they come in from other places?_ It was an interesting thought and he hoped to have the time to explore it one day. For now, he looked around until he found a desk and someone behind it.

"Excuse me," he asked politely. "But I'm in need of a little assistance."

"Yes?" The attendant looked far more alert than most of the people on the average town street. In a town of mages, that was not a bad trait. "What can I help you with, sir?"

"I'm looking for any information on a family called Arclight," Durbe replied, trying to keep the faint prickle of unease from the back of his neck and not having a great deal of luck doing it. He'd mentioned the name to the bartender when he'd awoken that morning, hoping to get something there, but not only had he failed, the bartender looked within a breath of throwing him out on the street.

Now, however, the attendant only frowned, but in thought, not anger. One finger tapped on the marble desk. "You would find most of the information on the Arclight family in the history section. Go up to the third level, fourth room to the right."

Durbe's tension eased a small fraction. "Thank you." He hoped this would give him more of the answers that he'd been looking for. He didn't want to stay very long here; the rest of his quest called to him.

But the more he looked around here, the more he hoped that he could come back for another visit to this library. The amount of knowledge stored here could not possibly know any bounds. He wondered why he'd never heard about it before.

There were several questions, he realized, that he did not know the answers to lately, and that was not usual for him. Nor did he especially like it. It got even worse when he considered the fact that he didn't know how to answer most of them, or even if they could be answered. And the ones he did have at least some method to answering, he wasn't certain of just how important they really were.

For now, he would look up what he could of Arclights, and if he should happen to find any information of secretive magical towers and where to find the keys to such, then all the better.

* * *

He lounged back on a throne of air, two polished mirrors floating in front of him. In one of them he watched the knight as Durbe climbed through the library floors, intent on his mission to answer the questions that he'd seeded within. In another, Christopher Arclight fretted over some magical toy of his own.

_How simply delicious,_ he purred to himself, a twisted little smile on his lips. This was still so close to the beginning; he had far too much time in which to play with his juicy little playthings.

And play with them he would. He hadn't seen such a wonderful set of toys in over three hundred years, and he wanted to make certain they lasted for a very long time.

He wouldn't break them. Not yet. He'd already broken dear Christopher multiple times, and put him back together each one, making him stronger in the process. It would not be easy to shatter him. But it could be done, and he of all people knew how to do it.

And then he would pick up the pieces and recraft them yet again into what he wanted the sorcerer to be. And Christopher would submit, because he knew the consequences of not doing so.

Perhaps he'd work on one of the others this time as well. There was no need to having the full set and not playing with _everything_.

He would have to take his time with this. Games that lasted ages were so much more fun than ones that ended in a few heartbeats.

The dark mage eyed his two current toys and lifted a goblet of rich wine. "Entertain me," he purred. "Make it worth my while!"

And the best part of it all was that he knew that they would.

* * *

Chris tried not to dwell too much on what he'd seen in the mirror. He and his family knew the bitter taste of false hope all too well. So to avoid thinking about it at all, he focused his attention on what he could do for himself.

The list of that was far shorter than he liked, but at least it was something. It would keep his mind occupied until Durbe did something that he could either enjoy himself watching or was more constructive toward the quest's resolution.

_What is he doing there?_ This library was one of the smaller ones, by magical standards, but it did have information that some of the others lacked, especially in the areas of local history and the like. That wasn't surprising; some information was considered too trivial for the larger locations to bother with, even with magic giving them far more space than an ordinary library would have.

But Chris could not guess as to what Durbe was looking up. Something to do with the keys? There wasn't much else that would catch his interest now, so far as Chris knew or could guess. He couldn't even use the mirror to ask, since that would let Durbe know he could watch him at all.

So he waited and watched and tried his best to keep his mind occupied with learning enough about Durbe to know if the meeting with their captor had been more than it seemed.

Morning's light brought a little more confidence in that regard. While he still didn't know Durbe as well as he wanted to or planned to, he was not going to throw away the best chance they'd all had at getting out of here over something this trivial. He would let it play out as much as he could, and if in the end Durbe truly was an agent for the dark sorcerer…

Chris pushed aside those thoughts for the moment and returned his attention to his leisurely breakfast and the morning show of watching Durbe explore the library. _Hm. The history section._ Interesting. Very much so.

He could only see a little of what was around Durbe, so he would have to wait until the other actually picked out a book to get a better sense of what he was looking for. From what he could see now, there were plenty of books newly written, by his standards at least, that could be fascinating to read. He would have to update the spell on his library to get them in there.

The sorcerer distracted himself with such thoughts while Durbe searched among the stacks and finally made a selection, going over to a polished wooden table with an unoccupied cushioned chair to peruse it.

_He'd better not have just gotten bored with traveling._ Chris still couldn't get a good look at which book it was. At least it wasn't one of those collections of bard's tales. _That_ would've certainly strained on his nerves.

It required a little tweaking of the spell on the mirror to get him the look he wanted to have at the book. Chris didn't try to convince himself that he wasn't spying. After all his time here, he had no shame about watching others, especially the ones who wished to rescue him.

What he read there wasn't what he'd expected at all. His fingers clenched into fists and he fought back the rising tide of anger that threatened to surge through him.

_Why? Why would he look that up?_ He breathed harder, hardly noticing when his teacup exploded and repaired itself a breath later. Then did the same thing twice more.

With a snap of one hand he banished the images, not wanting to see those words there any longer and not willing to watch Durbe as he read them. He didn't even want to talk to his family at the moment. Instead, he stalked his way to a large, empty room in the tower, one that no one but he ever entered. Those few who could enter the tower without his assistance knew that if he were in here, it would be best not to interrupt him.

Even his captor knew that, though more than once Chris had emerged from here to find the other waiting for him.

He would deal with that if the dark mage showed up. For now, Christopher Arclight conjured up images of all of those that he hated most in the universe, and flung the most destructive spells that he could imagine at them. The faces changed every time; after the centuries trapped here he had many people that he loathed. But each spell rocked the tower with the strength of his anger, and he let himself indulge to the fullest.

* * *

Durbe read over what he'd found a couple of times, wanting to make certain that he understood it all. He didn't think that he did even after that. He closed the book and considered it all.

_The Arclights ruled this land a few centuries ago. The whole area where this town is, where the tower is, and a lot more._ That wasn't so surprising. Boundaries changed with the passing of years and the tides of war. _But the last generation never took power. King Byron was the last crowned king of the land._

The book mentioned that he had three sons, so it wasn't as if the line died out for lack of offspring. A war started up, spun into existence by causes that historians still argued over, and when the dust settled, the Arclight kingdom lay in ruins, with no members of the royal family in evidence, and no sign of what might've happened to them. No bodies at all were found, but the castle hadn't been left with one single stone on top of another.

_So, what does any of that have to do with V?_ He wished the book had involved pictures of some kind. Perhaps V was related to the Arclights? If that were so, then that would put him in line for a throne, or at least a title of some kind. After the passing of centuries and the division of the land into different realms, the old kingdom didn't properly exist anymore anyway.

The problem here was that he had only the tiniest bits of information to work with, and he didn't have the right information to put it all together into the coherent hole he needed. That made all of this little more than a waste of time until he _did_ have all of that information.

_I can't stay around here forever._ He didn't know how much more time remained of his time in the town, but it would be better to get moving. Those keys needed to be found and he could ask V about the Arclights and their relation when he spoke to him next.

He could contact V now, he knew, but decided it wouldn't be a good idea just yet. He had hardly made any progress at all, and while he liked the idea of talking to V just for the pleasure of doing so, now just didn't seem to be the right time. Perhaps in another day or so, when he was much closer to the first key than he was right now.

Putting the book back, he hurried out of the library, a slight pang striking him at not being able to spend as much time there as he could. Perhaps V would like to come back here one day? The thought pleased him more than he thought it would.

_Once he's out of there,_ Durbe reminded himself, heading to the inn where Mach waited for him. Best to take to the air and get this quest going _properly_ instead of stalling.

* * *

_Fire and brimstone tainted the air, but those weren't the only scents that Chris could identify. Blood, sharp and coppery, had been spilled somewhere, and the part of him trained by magecraft told him that it was his blood. Not __**his**__, from his own veins, but blood of his blood, his family. Blood of the Arclights._

He wanted to look up and see what was going on. He tried to bring his head up, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to move more than a short distance, and that wasn't enough to see anything.

His breath stuttered in his lungs. Heat seared around him, far too close to him, and he just could not move. He realized only when he tried again that chains wrapped all around him, keeping him wherever his captor wanted him.

Memory flooded in, sharp and uncompromising. The battle. He and his family searched for a way to bring it to an end. The method they found, dangerous and unstable and it could end them all, but they'd had no other choice, not with the way **his** forces infiltrated everywhere.

Had they succeeded? He couldn't remember. Everything about the spell now filled his mind with fog and he couldn't remember **enough**.

Footsteps came closer, ones that rang horribly familiar, and his chin was jerked up and he stared into a pair of eyes filled with smug victory and a mouth twisted with glee built off the pain off others.

Chris jerked himself upward, breathing harder. _The...the end?_ He hadn't thought about that in decades. At first he'd dreamed of it every night, and it had burned bright in his clearest memories. But with time it faded from the broken agony of recent events to the slowly healing ache it had remained for so long.

Slowly he shook his head and pushed himself up, trying not to think of the chains of the past or the present. _Just a memory. That's all._ He couldn't deny it had happened, but it wasn't something he needed to dwell on now.

He knew what had caused it, of course. He'd worked himself down to sheer exhaustion because of what he'd seen in that book Durbe looked at. And worse, he knew that if Durbe thought to ask, there would be nothing he could say on the matter.

The chains that bound him now were as strong as those then, and even less likely to break.

**To Be Continued**


	8. The Lunchtime Discussion

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
**Fandom:** Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal  
**Title:** Keys To The Tower: Chapter 8: The Lunchtime Discussion  
**Romance:** Durbe x Chris/Chris x Durbe  
**Word Count:** chapter: 2,619||story: 20,983  
**Genre:** Romance, Fantasy||**Rated:** PG-13  
**Challenge:** Diversity Challenge, section L, #11, a multichap that is a completely fictional setting.  
**Notes:** This is an AU with magic, knights, dragons, flying horses, and other such things. But no dueling with cards.  
**Summary:** Imprisoned in luxury beyond compare. Cursed to never know the kiss of freedom again. One family's only hope is a knight who searches for keys hidden in the open. Their captor laughs at his attempts, for no one mortal can break the spell...

* * *

Durbe eyed the angle of the sun and compared it to the rumbling in his stomach and the particular tilt of Mach's wings and came up to a conclusion that he needed to stop and have something to eat. He'd traveled quite far from the mages' town by now, and the idea of resting for a while appealed.

"Down we go," he murmured, nudging Mach to a particular clearing that looked as if it would make a fine resting spot for a noon meal. Thick green grass spread out in every direction, giving Mach something to eat, and Durbe had the pack of food V had given him before he left the tower.

With that thought in mind, once he unharnessed Mach and made certain his dear companion had a good start on his lunch, Durbe also dug into his pack and pulled out the mirror the sorcerer had given to him.

"V?" he called, uncertain suddenly if this were the right time to contact the other. They hadn't spoken since he'd asked about that strange graveyard, and that had only been a handful of words.

The mirror's image clouded over, then cleared to reveal the beautiful young man. He lounged back against a couch that Durbe recalled having seen, a little smile on his lips.

"I'd almost thought you'd forgotten about me," V said, quirking up one eyebrow. "Have you been busy?"

"Very much so," Durbe agreed, settling down cross-legged and exploring the contents of his food pouch. "I stopped at a town not that far from your tower to try to get some more information."

There was a slightly odd tilt to V's lips at that. It wasn't entirely a smile, nor was it a frown. "What did you find out?"

"Not a lot that I think is really useful," Durbe half-apologized. He considered telling V what that nameless mage had mentioned, of the Arclights and everything else, and decided not to, at least not for now. He didn't know enough to say anything, in his opinion, and the books had been just a little vague for his liking. History was written by the victors, he knew that well, and until he had some other sources, he wasn't going to take anything he'd read there at face value.

V nodded. "I've never been to that town myself. I don't know how useful what information they have there could be." He leaned forward a little, a glimmering light of eagerness in his eyes. "Could you tell me about it?"

Durbe wondered how long it had been since V had set foot outside of the tower. How hungry he had to be for new sights, new people to talk to! He renewed his oath yet again to see the fair mage free, no matter what it cost him.

"It's not all that big of a town," he said, thinking back on it. "There are all manner of strange people there, even for mages." He described as much of it as he could remember, though once again he left out the nameless mage. There were so many more interesting topics to discuss with V and a strange and creepy magic-user wasn't one he wanted to think about if he had other options.

He described the buildings in all of their epic glittering glory and lingered long over the library and all the books that stretched out in every direction, books that he'd never once dreamed could exist, and he wished that he could get his hands on them to read forever and ever.

"When this is done, we'll go there together," he promised V, eyes warming as he did. "I think you'd like it there as well."

"I'm certain I would," V agreed, reaching to pick up his cup of wine. "I look forward to that."

Durbe nibbled on some of the bread he'd found in his pack; unlike the travel bread he was used to, this was warm and soft and smelled as delicious as if it had just been removed from the oven moments before he'd eaten it. That had to be V's magic involved, and it made the bread taste just a little bit better, at least to Durbe's mind.

"What else would you like to do when the spell is broken?" He knew so well that he hardly knew V, and he wanted to make certain that changed by the time he succeeded in his quest.

V didn't reply right away, his eyes half-closed in thought. "I want to go everywhere. There are so many places that I've only read of and heard tales about."

As always, Durbe could feel V chose his words with the greatest of care. He couldn't imagine what he would want to say that would be choked off by the spell, and he could think of no questions to ask that V would be able to answer because of that same spell.

"I'll take you anywhere that you want to go," he promised. "Mach is strong enough to carry two."

"That won't be necessary. Once I'm out of here, I can go where I please. I _am_ a sorcerer, after all." V's lips curved upward. "But I think I would enjoy a few rides, regardless."

Durbe seldom blushed. But now he could feel heat rising up in his cheeks and he groped for water in order to give himself something else to focus on.

V remained relaxed, still with that smile, and waited for him to finish before he spoke again. "What of you? Where did you come from, Sir Durbe? Do you spend your life traveling around helping those in distress?"

"I do, actually," Durbe replied without hesitation. "I do have a liege lord, but since I have Mach as well, he allows me to travel and help out wherever I can in the world, so long as I return once a year."

One finely made eyebrow of V's crept upward in a questioning manner. "So how long do I have until you have to go back there?"

"Not for several months. Depending on how much time this takes, I could even be done with it before I have to go back." If he could send a message to the palace, then he could even delay his trip. Nasch and Merag would understand if he gave them enough explanation.

He didn't want to mention that at the moment, though. V would probably insist that he didn't have to delay for his sake, and until he knew if he had to, he didn't want to make plans that might not be necessary.

When he peered into the food pack again, he saw a pile of fresh fruit, and pulled out a bunch of grapes, each one fat, juicy, and delicious, as perfectly round as any grape ever should be. For a few moments he focused on eating; grapes were a delicacy where he was from, and he couldn't recall having eaten them in at least two years.

"What else did you put in here?" he asked once he'd downed the first handful or two, glancing toward the mirror. He tilted his a bit at the sight of V all but staring at him, the strangest and most confusing look in his eyes. "V?"

The sorcerer raised his head up, eyes clearing right away. "I'm sorry. I'm not often distracted like that. What did you ask?"

_What distracted him?_ Was it something in the tower? Surely if V had something he needed to do, he would let Durbe know about it. "Only what else you put into my pack. I've never tasted grapes this fine before."

That got a smile from V. "You'll find out. My choices change every day for what you'll find in there."

That intrigued Durbe all the more. It would certainly make keeping himself in provisions that much easier.

"What else is there to know of you, Sir Durbe?" V made the title sound almost playful, but never disrespectful. Durbe thought it sounded almost like how Nasch said it when they were children together.

"There's not much else. I became a knight because there was little else for me to do with my life. I enjoy reading but I wanted to travel as well, and a scholar can't help people as much as I wanted to. It wasn't an easy road to follow, though."

"And why is that?"

Durbe took a long drink, recalling memories he hadn't thought of in years. He'd never needed to tell his story to anyone else. Those he spoke to most frequently either already knew it or didn't care to know it at all.

"Penniless orphans of no known background don't often become knights. I lived in the town orphanage until I was seven and old enough to begin training." A light smile touched his lips in memory. "I went to the palace and asked if I could learn to be a knight. I'd always seen them riding around on their great stallions and it seemed to me like the finest thing in the world to be a knight."

The smile almost dropped off his face, though. "But the guards told me that only those of noble blood could be knights, and I should return home. I did: that day. But I came back, and I kept on coming back. I found a way into the training grounds and watched them doing everything that I could. I practiced on my own, but it wasn't the same."

He'd tried. He'd given it his very best, but there was such a large difference between training against a wooden post and training against people who knew what they were doing and could tell him when he did something wrong.

His smile returned at the thought of what came next, though. A glance at the mirror showed that V waited to hear the rest of the story.

"It was a very wet day when I sneaked in to watch once. I knew how to get where I could see them but no one could see me by then. But I didn't think about how the rain would change things, and I ended up falling." He rubbed his wrist in memory. "I sprained my wrist. But what was worse, or at least I thought at the time, was that the trainer and his students heard me. I thought they would throw me into the dungeon right then."

Again he smiled, a warm comforting glow spreading from his very core. "if it hadn't been for Nasch, they might well have."

_"What are you doing here?" The young boy, surely no older than Durbe himself, stood over him, sea-blue eyes staring downward._

"I want to be a knight," Durbe said, holding onto his wrist and trying not to give away how much it hurt. Bad enough he'd been caught and at best would never be allowed near here again. He didn't need them feeling sorry for him.

The boy tilted his head and stared down even harder, as if trying to read Durbe's mind. Durbe had heard many tales about those born to magic who could do just that and hoped he wasn't one of them. His thoughts were **his** thoughts!

"Then why didn't you come and ask if you could train to be one?"

"I did." Durbe shifted carefully, hissing under his breath. "They told me that only a noble can become a knight."

The other looked at the teacher, with the kind of look that only those who have never been denied anything in their lives can give. "If he's going to sneak around and hide and maybe get himself killed to be a knight, then he should get trained to be one, so we have someone who knows what they're doing around."

That didn't entirely make sense to Durbe, but a second, closer look at the young boy told him that it didn't need to make sense. Only one noble boy in the kingdom had eyes like that, with that kind of regal bearing.

He'd stumbled right into one of the training sessions of Prince Nasch, heir to the throne. He really **was** lucky they didn't throw him out on his ear or execute him or exile him.

"I was much luckier than I knew at the time," Durbe said. "Nasch convinced his father to give me a chance to learn. If nothing else, I could be his companion, and it would be no bad thing if the prince's companion knew how to wield weaponry, even if he wasn't skilled enough to become a knight."

"But you were."

Durbe nodded, pulling himself out of memories of the past. "Nasch and I became very good friends." He did not want to say just how close, not to V, not now. Perhaps when they knew each other better.

There were so many things one could say to a stranger that could not be said to those that one knew personally. And perhaps just as many tales that would remain untold to a stranger that only those who one knew well should hear.

"He's King Nasch now, and his sister is one of the priestesses in their temple." He'd never been very religious, and he'd always had the feeling the priests didn't like him anyway. Something in the way they stared and murmured when they thought he wasn't looking. "I swore my fealty to him when he became king. He wanted me to be his champion, but I wanted to travel more than anything else. So we made the agreement, that so long as I checked in once a year, I could go where I pleased."

Slowly Durbe began to bury the remains of his lunch that he couldn't take along with him. The memory of the way the High Priest looked at him during the fealty ceremony, and the anger when Nasch asked him to be the Royal Champion… he'd wanted to leave to get away from that as much as he wanted to travel the world.

"I think I wanted to travel more to see if I could find any hint of my family. No one at the orphanage could tell me anything at all. I wasn't sent there and there weren't any plagues or invasions when I was born. They found me on the doorstep. Not even a note to say what my name was."

Durbe shook his head, trying to get rid of some of the darker memories. "But as far as I've looked, I've never met anyone who could be related to me." He'd seen the kind of bond that Nasch and Merag had with one another, and to a different extent with their parents. He wanted that for himself. But try as he might, no one anywhere had lost a child at that time or place, nor knew anyone who had.

V's voice wrapped around him, warm and caring. "Family is important. And it sounds as if you have a good one, in your friends."

Durbe glanced at the mirror. "You're right, I do. Nasch and Merag are the best friends I could ever hope for." He'd connected to them as he had to no one else, as if they'd always known one another and couldn't remember it.

With everything put away he looked over toward Mach. The winged stallion looked back at him at the same moment and pawed the ground, eager to be off once more.

"And dare I ask how you and your flying friend met one another?" V wanted to know, honest curiosity and teasing in the same words.

There was only one answer that Durbe could give to that as he picked the mirror up. "That is another story."

**To Be Continued**


	9. The Simplest Solution

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
**Fandom:** Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal  
**Title:** Keys To The Tower: Chapter 9: The Simplest Solution  
**Romance:** Durbe x Chris/Chris x Durbe  
**Word Count:** chapter: 2,580||story: 23,563  
**Genre:** Romance, Fantasy||**Rated:** PG-13  
**Challenge:** Diversity Challenge, section L, #11, a multichap that is a completely fictional setting.  
**Notes:** This is an AU with magic, knights, dragons, flying horses, and other such things. But no dueling with cards.  
**Summary:** Imprisoned in luxury beyond compare. Cursed to never know the kiss of freedom again. One family's only hope is a knight who searches for keys hidden in the open. Their captor laughs at his attempts, for no one mortal can break the spell...

* * *

Durbe leaned forward over Mach's withers and wondered if he'd somehow come in a full circle. It wasn't _likely_; he knew how to navigate by the stars and he'd kept in touch with V enough to know that he wasn't heading back to the tower.

But here in the mountains, as nestled into the cliffs as if it had grown there, stood a tower remarkably similar to V's own. There were differences, however: the wall of roaring fire being the one most obvious.

It ranged outward at least a mile or two from the tower itself, rising up too high for Mach to conveniently fly over it, and walling the tower off from the rest of the valley it rested in.

He would've kept going, circling around the fire-shrouded tower, if every instinct he possessed didn't tell him that one of the keys he searched for lay hidden somewhere around here. This tower being so much like V's only made it more obvious. The same hand was at work here.

Which meant he needed to find a way to get through it, and he doubted that V could do anything to help him. He wasn't even going to ask. This was the kind of test that he was meant to go through alone, by his own wits.

He nudged Mach carefully, sending his steed down to the ground. Perhaps something or someone could be found there that would be of use. He hadn't forgotten the automatons that patrolled around V's tower. Perhaps this would have something of the same.

If he hadn't already guessed, he would've been able to tell the fire wall wasn't genuine fire by the way the grass and trees that grew down this way didn't catch fire. That didn't make it any less hot, though, and going through it wasn't even an option. He'd heard of magical fire like this. It might not burn grass or trees or wood, but it would burn _him_.

"So, what are you going to do?" A taunting voice spoke up, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. "Just going to sit there and stare at my handiwork?"

Durbe's hand fell to his sword at once. "Who are you?" Could this be the foul magician who trapped V in his tower?

The laugh that followed held more than a little edge of madness to it. "What do you think? Who do you think I am, Sir Durbe?"

Durbe's grip tightened on the hilt now. "How do you know my name?"

"I know far more about you than you could ever imagine, and if you thought about it long enough, you'd probably figure out how I know too." The voice seemed far too amused for Durbe's liking. Definitely a mage of some kind, at the least. "Now, are you going to stand there and flap your jaw all night, or are you going to try to accomplish something? I can tell you right now that you don't get any second chances here. If you decide to quit, then you'll never see V again."

The word that fell from Durbe's lips wasn't repeatable in polite company. Granted, he didn't think he was among polite company at the moment, but he'd been well-trained in manners as well as mayhem, and he seldom let his grip on either slip.

The stranger chuckled at that. "That's not going to get you anywhere. Only getting through my firewall will. Well..." He drawled the word out. "That and getting through all of my other defenses."

"What other defenses?" Durbe slitted his eyes, looking here and there for anything that might cause trouble.

_Boom. Boom. Boom._

A short rise not that far away began to shake, the trees on either side shedding their leaves unexpectedly.

"Those," the strange voice supplied very unhelpfully. "My creations. I like to call them my puppets, really. They're very useful in keeping out unwanted guests. Are you an unwanted guest?"

"What if I am?"

Another laugh, so rich in madness that Durbe almost pitied him. "Then you won't be able to get by them. Didn't you hear what I just said?"

"I heard you," Durbe replied, drawing his sword. "I just don't think you made any sense."

"You'd be wrong, then. I make perfect sense. Your problem is that you don't know the game you're playing or even who you're playing with. But take a round or two with the puppets. If you survive, I might see you on the other side. If you can get through the rest of my obstacle course, of course." Another laugh. "And I do mean _if_."

Durbe shook his head, just as the automatons or puppets or whatever they were came into full sight. On some levels they resembled the ones he'd seen at V's, but instead of being animate armor, they looked more like statues given life. Close, but not identical. These didn't come with weapons, either, but their club-like arms gave them all the tools they needed in order to fight.

That was fine by Durbe. He had all that he needed in order to fight as well.

He slipped off of Mach, sending the stallion up into the skies for now, then crouched down, gathering himself. He leaped forward to the first in line, parrying a blow that sent him back a pace or two before he dug his feet in and shoved forward. He couldn't tell what these creatures were made out of, aside from possibly stone. Black stone, maybe obsidian? No, that wasn't nearly heavy enough for the weight they carried. Maybe something magical was involved.

Durbe put aside those thoughts for the clash and whirl of combat, ducking away from hands that reached to grab him. Thick fingers came within a whisper of seizing onto him and he backed away, dodging to see if the puppets could be lured into attacking their own.

They couldn't. They simply straightened up and began to move toward him again, as silent and deadly as death itself.

Already sweat trickled down his back and his forehead, stinging into his eyes. He could see Mach perched on a stretch of stone above, watching intently. If - or when – he needed help, he knew Mach would be there.

The question there would have to be if Mach could provide the kind of help that he actually needed to win through here.

* * *

Thomas managed to stifle his own laughter as he watched Durbe struggle against his puppets. He didn't really need to; no one would hear him from outside of his tower without the proper spells, but since he'd been watching the knight, he didn't want to risk being heard by _him_.

This was all just too perfect. It was all passable, of course. They couldn't set up barriers that couldn't be solved somehow; the curse binding them wouldn't allow it. They could give themselves all the hope they wanted, short of handing their keys over without effort, but only _he_ could break their hope, and he had a thousand ways to do so.

But they'd all learned to weave barriers that would challenge their would-be suitors, pushing them to the utter limits. It made it harder to hope when there was less of a chance that those who claimed to want to free them could make it through. And being harder to hope meant it was harder to break.

Not that their captor still didn't find ways. But they made it as hard for him as they could.

"Thomas?" Chris's voice came from the communication mirror. "He's there, isn't he?"

Scarlet and gold hair danced in the breeze as Thomas tossed his head toward his elder brother's image. "That he is. And he's having such a fun time with my puppets."

Chris lifted an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching a tiny bit at the same time. "Really."

"Really!" Thomas made a pass at the mirror with one hand, shifting the spell so that Chris could see what was going on down below. "I wonder if he'll figure out the trick to it." He shot a glowering glance that he knew his brother couldn't see. "And no trying to tell him about it, either."

"I won't. He looks too busy for chatting anyway," Chris replied. His own image replaced that of the dance of death below. "You're having far too much fun with this."

Thomas shrugged casually. "So what if I am? We haven't had someone to play with in a long time and I've been _really_ bored."

Not only had he not had anyone he could test his traps and trials on, the ones who _did_ come by always came by looking for either Chris or Michael. No one wanted to come and free _him_.

It had been a long, long time since anyone had wanted him in particular, and Thomas did not like to think about that too hard. From the prince with a thousand fans to the prisoner who was only visited because he carried one of the four keys to their freedom…

No, he did not think about that. Not. At. All.

He threw himself back onto his private couch and glared at the mirror as it reflected Durbe's on-going fight. His pegasus had joined him now, smashing and kicking at the puppets, but to no more avail than Durbe's sword.

Hoof and blade and wing and hand would do nothing. There was only one way to end this fight, and Thomas had his doubts on if Durbe would realize the answer before he got his fool self killed.

Well, if he didn't, then that was one less piece of hope that could be stolen away from them. It would've killed itself, and so be it.

* * *

Durbe dropped down, letting his weight rest on his sword for a few, far too brief seconds. The automatons stood encircling the rise that he and Mach now stood on. His dearly beloved partner had dropped down, clearing enough space so Durbe could get back astride, and now they stood together, catching their breath while Durbe tried to figure out what to do next.

_What can I do? They don't get tired. They don't hurt each other. Whoever that was, he has to be pulling their strings somehow._ That only made sense. He did call them his 'puppets'. So he was a puppet master.

That more and more made Durbe wonder if this was the true enemy after all. But he couldn't waste the time to think it through, not with the puppets beginning to make their way to the top.

He wasn't that far from the wall of fire, either. One of the puppets even stood half in it himself, completely unharmed. That wasn't surprising; any sorcerer worth his salt would've thought to protect their playthings from their weapons.

A slow frown touched onto his lips. Could he use that? Could he maybe ride on one of the puppet-creatures and get through the fire wall like that?

It was worth a try. He patted Mach on the shoulder above one of his wings. "I'm going to try something very risky," he murmured, hoping that the owner of the voice he'd heard before couldn't hear him now. "Make sure I don't get myself killed, if you can?"

Mach's mouth was not set to speak in human tongues, but from the look he gave, Durbe would've completely believed that the stallion wanted to know why Durbe thought he could pull off miracles like that.

He sheathed his sword, didn't take the time to worry about what he was doing, and leaped, landing on the nearest creature's shoulders and wrapping his arms and legs around it tightly. He jerked as hard as he could, wanting to send it toward the fire wall, tensing at the sensation of those flames the closer they stumbled toward it.

_I don't think this is working!_ But he dared not let go. If he did, not only would he be at the mercy of the puppets, but that of the flames as well. At least up here, the other automatons weren't bothering him. Staring at him, or at his unwilling ride, in a manner that made him wonder just how aware they were, but not trying to tackle him or fight him. So he'd solved that part of the problem at the least. But it wasn't enough, and he needed the next solution.

A line of fire licked up his leg and he jerked back, his oath this time much louder, clearer, and far more profane. He knew that the enchanted flame could burn him, but no one had ever said how scorching hot it would actually _be_!

"Did I forget to mention that fire magic is one of my specialties?" It was that voice again, and the speaker didn't sound even remotely sad about having 'neglected' to mention that tiny fact. "It's not the only one, of course. But I do it fairly well anyway."

"What else did you forget to talk about?" Durbe asked, beating the flame that wanted to eat its way up his leg to death with his gauntlet.

"Probably more things than I can remember. You are a rude one, though, aren't you?"

Durbe didn't like how that sounded. It was almost as if the speaker were trying to tell him something. No, it _was_ as if he were. But what could he be trying to say, and why?

"I've never had any complaints before."

"You're getting one now. I will certainly make a note of how you never seem to say please or thank you. Those are as much magical words as anything else. At least that's what I was always told growing up. What about you?"

Durbe wrapped his hand once more around the automaton's neck. It wasn't fighting now, just standing and waiting, as if needing word from its master to do anything else. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I suppose you don't, then. Well, I'm not here to teach you good manners. You'd better make up your mind on what you're going to do soon. I won't hold my puppets back much longer. As soon as I'm bored, you're done." Three breaths' worth of a pause. "And I am very easily bored." Each word now edged with danger and warning.

Durbe struggled to grasp what the other said. Doing so wasn't easy when he spent the same amount of time and even more focus gripping onto the neck, knowing that any second it would start to throw him off. It didn't move at all toward the fire now, no matter what he did.

_He was talking about manners. Please and thank you? I don't get - _

The answer burst into his mind in crystal clarity. At least he hoped it was the answer and not something that the voice told him just to make him take the chance and die from it.

_I have to do something. This could be it._ There weren't any other choices. He grit his teeth, hoped for all the best, and spoke into the air. "May I please enter the tower?"

Manners. Saying please and thank you. The voice telling him that the creatures kept out _unwanted_ visitors. No one would want someone who was rude around. Durbe hoped.

The automaton turned toward the wall of flame and began to walk, carrying Durbe along with it. He squared his shoulders and watched as it grew ever closer.

**To Be Continued**


	10. The Key of Fire

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
**Fandom:** Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal  
**Title:** Keys To The Tower: Chapter 10: The Key of Fire  
**Romance:** Durbe x Chris/Chris x Durbe  
**Word Count:** chapter: 2,658||story: 26,221  
**Genre:** Romance, Fantasy||**Rated:** PG-13  
**Challenge:** Diversity Challenge, section L, #11, a multichap that is a completely fictional setting.  
**Notes:** This is an AU with magic, knights, dragons, flying horses, and other such things. But no dueling with cards.  
**Summary:** Imprisoned in luxury beyond compare. Cursed to never know the kiss of freedom again. One family's only hope is a knight who searches for keys hidden in the open. Their captor laughs at his attempts, for no one mortal can break the spell...

* * *

Thomas tried not to squeal and laugh as maniacally as he really wanted to. He tried not to for all of thirty seconds before he lost the fight and did just that.

"He might actually be able to pull it off!" Thomas declared, more to himself than anyone else, since there wasn't anyone else in his tower with him and he didn't have his mirrors set to communicate with anyone else. That was one of the rules; if a suitor made it as far as one of them, there couldn't be any hint that there was any way for the family to speak to one another.

Not that Thomas obeyed rules because they were rules; he would've told every single one of them who they were, so long as it got the reaction that he wanted. But with all of the spells dictating what they could and couldn't say, he had little choice.

Oh, he had so many ideas for what he'd do to that sorcerer once he had the chance. He knew that Christopher, Micheal, and their father had ideas of their own, but he wanted to get there first and cause as much damage as he possibly could. His entire life had been ruined because of being trapped in here, and he would never, ever forgive that.

He could, however, put it to the side for the moment, in favor of the first steps towards unlocking their chains. And those steps involved his puppets bringing his brother's latest suitor to the door.

For the first time, Thomas examined the newcomer, still being carried by his puppet, who handled warrior and armor with careless ease. He spared a second to be proud of his creations. They resembled what guarded Christopher's tower only superficially, but they were all his in the ways that mattered.

Then he returned his attention to Sir Durbe. Not all that tall, certainly shorter than Christopher himself, and so very _fluffy_. Sweat-streaked, his hair stained by passing through the fire, scorched here and there as well, and with a look of weariness in his eyes from the fighting, Thomas could only find himself wondering when his brother developed a taste for tiny warriors.

At his gesture, the puppet set the knight down on the floor, and Thomas found himself chuckling again. For all of his obvious tiredness, Durbe still clutched his sword in one hand, and stared at him as if ready to fight one more time.

"You've come all this way and you think you could defeat me if we fought?" Thomas trailed his fingers through the air, letting sparks follow along. That had been one of his favorite tricks in the old days. He wished there were more people around to appreciate it now.

"I'd try," Durbe said, his voice dry and parched. Thomas tilted his fingers and a copper goblet, etched with flames, appeared before him. It floated without benefit of tray or plate, filled to the brim with pale white wine.

"Care for a drink?"

Durbe stared at the cup, drew in a sharp breath of air through his nose, and reached for it. Thomas gave him a few points for courage for that alone. He could've done anything at all to that wine, and no recourse to poisons or drugs needed. Christopher might well be better at magic than he was, but no Arclight was a slouch at it by any means.

"So you came here looking for a key," Thomas said, perching on an invisible seat of air. He liked the way people stared when he did that. Thomas liked the way anyone stared at him for anything. Attention fed his soul even more than food did.

"What do you know about the key and where is it?" Durbe asked, once he'd taken a long drink of the wine. Thomas let his lips move upward at that. It wasn't entirely a smirk, but perhaps the first cousin to one.

"You had to be polite to get in here. Not much has changed," Thomas warned him. He _liked_ making people treat him with respect. It brought back sweet memories of times long gone. At least for a little while.

Durbe did not look away from him but took more of the wine. "Will you please tell me what you know of the key and how I might get it, then?" He sounded somewhat more polite but Thomas could tell strain when he heard it. That was just as well. He really didn't want to make this too easy.

"Perhaps I will. Perhaps I won't." Thomas made a drink for himself and sampled it slowly. One thing he could say for the accommodations and supplies in these prison towers, they were always of the finest vintages. But like the rest of his family, Thomas would trade it all for the chance to get into the fresh air on his own once more.

Durbe's fingers tightened on the cup. Nothing else betrayed his thoughts, whatever they might be. "What do you require so that you will help me?" He kept a tight rein on his voice. Thomas approved of that. Oh, he _liked_ being able to pull people around like this. There wasn't much pleasure he could get around here that he wasn't used to having done a thousand times or more already. Anything new sang sweetly in his veins.

"I'm not sure if you can do it. Or will do it if you can." Thomas played with his voice and his words as if they were a harp's strings. "How dedicated are you to freeing V?"

He hated having to use that name. He hated what he would have to say if or when Durbe asked for his own. But the spell's bonds lay firmly, regardless of what he hated or didn't hate.

"There's nothing else I know of that I want more than to do that," Durbe replied, setting the half-finished goblet down on a nearby counter. "And I will do it, no matter what I have to do."

Thomas's lips curved up into the most wicked of smiles. "_Really?_" He'd already made plans for what the final barrier would be and Durbe had begun to navigate it as soon as he set foot within the tower.

_I think I neglected to tell him that. Oops._ He didn't stop the smile that spread across his lips. He knew how it made him look. He liked that. He took another sip from his own cup.

"Yes." Durbe had no idea of what was going through Thomas's mind. "Name your price and I'll pay it."

Thomas leaned forward, fires sparking all around him. He'd cultivated that for the way it made him look so demonic. "That's a risky statement to make. You have no idea of what I could ask in return."

"The only price I won't pay is anything that involves giving up the quest." Durbe folded his arms over his chest and gave what he had to presume was a stern look. Thomas thought he needed to take a nap more than anything else.

"Oh, I'd never ask that." Since that would mean that he wouldn't get out either. He waved one hand carelessly. "But I could still ask for so many other prices that you'd find you don't want to pay."

Durbe's shoulders tensed and he pulled his head up, looking directly into Thomas's eyes. "Then go ahead and name the price. We can't make any bargains if you don't tell me what it is you want."

_What I want is out of here and the only way you can do that is to get him out._ Thomas didn't let a shred of that show on his face. Instead, he breathed a silent sigh, one more of annoyance than anything else.

"If that's what you want." To outside eyes, he would've seemed annoyed rather than far more amused than he wished to reveal. He wished Christopher could see this. He'd made up his mind for this to be the last of the tests when he'd heard about what the other did, or was supposed to have done, in the wizard's village. If Durbe's dedication strayed, then he would find out.

He shaped his question with all care. "To acquire the key, you must answer a question of my asking. You must answer in perfect truth, even if that answer is that you don't know. What's more, I will ask more than one question. You will answer all of them, but only one is the one you must answer to gain the key."

He'd made certain to put Durbe through the battle first, to wear down his resistance. The knight would presume that a fight of some kind was necessary, when Thomas would instead test his mind and his heart, and with his weariness, he would have no strength to conjure lies. Whatever he said would come from his heart.

"Ask your questions, then," Durbe said, with only the faintest of hesitation. "Whatever you want to know, I'll tell you. But I have a question of my own first."

Oh, he knew what was that. He didn't even bother to let the knight answer it. "You may call me IV."

Durbe repeated it, tasting the word on his tongue, and from the twitch of his lips, he was not amused. "V and IV?"

"Yes." Thomas did not alert him to the existence of III. Some treasures were too precious to let slip away. "Now, are you ready?"

Durbe set himself even more than before, raising his head in his confidence. "Anything you want to know, I'll tell you."

"But will what you tell me be what you need to?" Thomas settled himself once more and tapped his fingers. A whiff of silver smoke passed between them, solidifying into three silver spheres. "Choose one and the first question will be asked."

The knight gave a look at the sphere, then gestured toward the one in the middle. "That one first."

"Oh, interesting." Thomas watched as the sphere floated before the knight and opened up. A wisp of mist poured outward, circling around Durbe, and Thomas's own voice spoke.

"Why did you choose to seek out V's tower in the first place?"

Thomas knew that it didn't matter which sphere Durbe chose. He decided what questions would be asked and when. But anything that would game the other pleased him.

Durbe stared at the mist as it circled and danced between them, waving in a hypnotic pattern. Then he shook his head, blinked his eyes, and stared at Thomas. "I'd heard there was a prisoner in a tower, held there unlawfully and against his will. I wanted to know more about it."

The mist brushed against his lips, turning a rich shade of midnight blue. Thomas nodded. "Answered well and truthfully. Pick again."

With the first one asked and answered, the blue mist and the sphere it had been in faded away. Durbe reached for the wine cup he'd set aside earlier and had a drink before he chose.

Again the mist slid outward, and another question asked. "Would you give up your life on this quest, if it meant that V would be released by your death?"

Durbe swallowed and set the cup back down. He didn't say anything for a few moments, and Thomas watched with interest. Would he have to show this one to his brother, as a sign of his suitor's failure? He somewhat hoped not. Durbe had done well so far.

"I know that I'm probably supposed to say yes. I know many knights who would. But it seems to me that's foolishness. What reason would I have to believe that he would be freed by it? And it can't be that easy." He trailed his fingers against the edges of his armor. "I think my answer there will have to be… I don't know. Maybe if I knew him better, I could say for certain that I would. But right now, I have to say that I don't know."

The mist touched onto Durbe's lips, and Thomas did not breathe much as he waited for the spell to react.

Bright blue. He'd answered truthfully once again. Thomas kept his face as straight as he could and gestured for the last sphere to open up.

"Would you kiss me?"

Durbe all but threw himself backward from where he'd stood all this time, eyes wide and round with shock. "_What_?"

Thomas let his best mischievous smile slide across his lips. "Oh, I'm certain you heard it correctly. It's not even the hardest question of the three. Would you kiss me?"

Durbe slowly recovered himself, staring at Thomas as if he'd never seen someone like him before. Thomas doubted that he had. He was, after all, one of a kind. He took a sip of his drink and waited for Durbe's answer, whatever it might be.

"I… you're serious about that?" Durbe shook his head, confusion large in his eyes. "You can't be."

"Why can't I be? You're not unattractive, and you're not attached to anyone, are you?" Thomas smiled even more, hints of wicked pleasure in the expression. "_Are_ you?"

"I..." Durbe licked his lips nervously. "Not exactly."

Thomas all but wished he could read minds with his magic. The idea of finding out what was going on between those ears was _so_ tempting. Unfortunately, that wasn't in his skill set. So he had to wait and see what Durbe would say for himself.

Durbe finally shook his head. "No. I'm not attached to anyone, but I'm not going to kiss just anyone, either."

"Saving it for true love?" Thomas asked, a hint of venom in his words.

"Not at all. It wouldn't be my first kiss." Durbe looked toward him, a smile of his own on his lips, one a bit sad and rich with memories. "But I prefer to save them for people that I really know, and I don't know you. Or, for that matter, V."

_And I didn't even have to ask about that._ Thomas chuckled, making another pass with his fingers. The last sphere, mist having turned deep blue, merged with the other two as they reappeared, and in their place there now appeared a long, slender case, wrapped in red and gold flames.

The case slid forward, guided by nothing more than Thomas's will, and hovered in front of Durbe's hands.

"The first Key, the Key of Fire," Thomas said. Durbe reached up to take the case, hissing at the heat that flowed through it, even through his armored gauntlets. "Do remember what you've been told. Each key has a different method to being claimed. The others who you must deal with won't treat you as I have." His smile widened, laced with fire and teasing. "They won't be as nice."

"You're nice?" Durbe asked, cocking up one eyebrow. "I hadn't noticed."

"Good. Glad to see that I haven't lost my touch." He drained his wine glass to the bottom and dismissed it. "Now, for more important matters. You will enjoy my company tonight and tomorrow you'll move on to the next location."

"Is there anything that you could tell me about that?" Durbe wanted to know at once, pulling the case close to him.

Thomas shrugged, a most beautiful liquid motion. "Perhaps. But you'd have to pay a price for the answer. Nothing is free in this world. You should know that, good knight."

Durbe matched the shrug with one of his own. "I would call it a favor for a favor. If you tell me what I want to know, then I can tell you what I know of the world outside of here."

Oh, he was good indeed. Thomas chuckled lightly. Perhaps this one could be a match for Christopher after all. "We can discuss that over dinner, good knight." It promised to be a most stimulating conversation.

**To Be Continued**


	11. The Dangers of Trust

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
**Fandom:** Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal  
**Title:** Keys To The Tower: Chapter 11: The Dangers of Trust  
**Romance:** Durbe x Chris/Chris x Durbe  
**Word Count:** chapter: 2,659||story: 28,880  
**Genre:** Romance, Fantasy||**Rated:** PG-13  
**Challenge:** Diversity Challenge, section L, #11, a multichap that is a completely fictional setting.  
**Notes:** This is an AU with magic, knights, dragons, flying horses, and other such things. But no dueling with cards.  
**Summary:** Imprisoned in luxury beyond compare. Cursed to never know the kiss of freedom again. One family's only hope is a knight who searches for keys hidden in the open. Their captor laughs at his attempts, for no one mortal can break the spell...

* * *

_Would you kiss me?_ The question would not stop rattling around in Durbe's mind. He knew that IV couldn't possibly have meant it seriously. It was all part of the test to win the key that now pulsed hot in his hand. But he'd never been _asked_ quite like that before.

It wouldn't have been his first kiss even if he had agreed. He'd kissed Nasch a few times in the past, and a few others scattered throughout the years. He'd long since lost any romantic notions of 'love's first kiss'. And yet the idea of kissing someone that he didn't hold _any_ romantic feelings for wasn't appealing at all.

He tried to put it out of his mind. He'd won the key and now he could get moving to find the next. One fourth of his quest had been accomplished. He would have to let V know as soon as he could.

V. IV. Something about that struck him as far stranger than it should've been. They were clearly both bound by the same spell, so that likely enough had something to do with it. But there was something else that rang a bell of similarity between the two, and try as he might, Durbe couldn't figure it out.

_I'm tired,_ he reminded himself. Not only had he had to fight all of those creatures, but the test of truth hadn't been the breeze he'd thought it might be. He'd had to think about things in a way that he hadn't before, and while he wasn't _physically_ worn out that much from it, he thought a good night's rest would help put him together again.

IV led him inside the central room of the tower, which was much like V's own. Durbe looked around, then looked back to his host.

"You and V share a decorator?"

IV smiled. Or somewhat showed his teeth at least. Durbe couldn't be certain if that counted as a smile. "You could say something like that." He waved one hand to the plush couch, upholstered in rich fire-red instead of the cool blues of V's tower. "Go ahead, take a seat."

Durbe didn't hesitate to do just that. His legs trembled as he sat down and he closed his eyes, fighting off an unexpected wave of weariness. He blamed it not just on the battle but on the fact the couch was far too soft and comfortable for its own good. Anyone sitting on it would instantly be inclined to think of rest and sleep, if not actually dropping off where they sat.

The soft swish of material brushing near him brought his eyes open again, with a little more wariness than most might've thought given how comfortable he was. IV stood near him, a tray hovering next to him with two cups of wine resting on it.

"Dinner will be ready shortly," IV told him, taking his own seat and having the tray rest itself on the finely carved table in front of the couch. "I'm sure you'll find it to be just as worthwhile as what you had in V's tower."

"I'm sure," Durbe agreed. He didn't feel quite as safe here as he had with V, though. It was hard for him to avoid the feeling of wanting to keep one hand on his dagger at all times when IV looked at him. He didn't feel _endangered_, but he didn't feel as if he could completely relax and let his guard down either.

IV's smile did nothing at all to encourage that relaxation either, and Durbe wondered if he knew that. More, he wondered if the other enjoyed it being like that.

For the moment, IV simply took his cup of wine and swirled it, staring down into the clear depths. "This was the easiest of the four for you to find," he said after a few silent minutes. "It always begins with the easiest." He didn't look up from his cup, but Durbe saw his lips move into a faint smile regardless. "What you'll have to do to find the last one will probably make you give up, though."

Durbe leaned forward, anticipation singing along his veins. "What will I have to do?"

He knew for a fact IV's smile dripped sweet fire and mocking sarcasm. "If I told you, then you'd be too terrified to try it before you even got there. If you wait and find out on your own...you'll still fail, I'm sure, but at least you would've made more progress. It's too soon to quit now, don't you think?"

The knight drew in a sharp breath of air, fingers clutching at the couch, and managed not to yell. The longer he struggled on this quest, the more he realized that he didn't like people who held back the truth from him, whether they could help it or not. IV labored under the same curse V did, that went without saying, but…

_But he'd likely not tell me even if he could._ The tilt of IV's head, the twitch of his lips, that gleaming _wickedness_ in his eyes… all of those combined to comprise a picture of a person that Durbe highly doubted that he'd ever like. _I wonder if I should introduce him to Nasch._

The thought appealed on many levels. He still hardly knew anything about IV, but perhaps Nasch could make him tolerable. It wasn't the worst idea that he'd ever had in his life. It wasn't the best either, but it could provide some interesting entertainment once they weren't locked up like this.

IV raised one eyebrow and Durbe scrambled for sudden words. "You're probably right," he said, his own lips quirking. "And even if you could tell me, how could I trust what you said? You're the one who asked if I would kiss you."

That got a sharp bark of a laugh from IV before he set to draining his cup. "You could be right. There haven't been many people who can trust me." He shot a sly glance toward Durbe. "But can you trust me if I say that you shouldn't?"

Durbe didn't want to think thoughts about logic and reason when he was this tired. For now he just shrugged. "But I'm not trusting you. I'm trusting V."

"And who said you should do that, hm?" IV asked, hints of tartness in his tone. Then he waved one hand toward the table, a more abrupt gesture than V's regal movements, but with the same result V produced: a spread of magnificent food, all the finest offerings possible. Every dish rested on a platter or plate of sterling silver or gleaming marble, with equally exquisite cutlery provided. The cups shone in the enchanted light that gleamed from the ceiling, revealing themselves full of wine that seemed of a vintage fit to put what they'd already had to shame.

Durbe waited only long enough for IV to begin to fill his plate before he did the same. He thought it wouldn't be much longer before he couldn't hold his eyes open and he wanted to be certain that he finished eating before then. It would be very poor manners to fall asleep over one's meal, after all.

"Why shouldn't I trust V, then?" Durbe asked, once the first flash of hunger was satisfied. He didn't expect a good answer, perhaps not even an answer at all, but he would lose nothing but asking in the first place.

IV took his time in answering as well. "Trust is not something that you should give to anyone. You never know when they'll just be playing you for their own purposes."

Durbe set his plate down in favor of giving IV a very stern look. "That isn't something that I agree with. Trust should not be given _lightly_, but there are those worthy of it." He would trust Nasch and Merag to his grave and beyond. He didn't yet trust V to _that_ extent, but for the moment, he considered that to be the result of not having known him as long as he knew the twins.

"I've found them to be few and far between myself," IV said, stretching somewhat so he could turn his gaze up to the ceiling. "And certainly not in someone that I've spoken to for a handful of minutes scattered across a breath of days."

Durbe winced at that. It wasn't entirely untrue, but he couldn't call it completely accurate, either. He reached for his plate again. "So you're saying that I shouldn't try to do this at all?"

"I say that you should know as much as you can. You've made a good start, but that's all it is. A start." IV shook his head, eyes closed now, dropping small pieces of food into his mouth. "And if you make the wrong choice on who to trust, what will happen then?"

There wasn't much that Durbe could find to say to that. Just because he didn't like what IV had to say didn't mean there wasn't a ring of truth in it nevertheless.

_But that also goes for him as well,_ and he'd said that before he even gave the words more thought. IV cracked one eye open to look at him, and at first Durbe wondered if the caged mage would lose his temper.

Instead, IV smiled, a quick whiplash of an expression unlike anything Durbe had seen before. "I think we already made that clear in this conversation, didn't we?"

Durbe made a small noise of agreement before he returned his attention to his meal. Regardless of what IV said, he would continue to trust V. He couldn't imagine a reason not to. Even if V were just using him to get free of his curse and his tower, was that so wrong? He still hadn't been able to guess how long V had been trapped there, but even an hour's worth of a life stolen was an hour too long. He would deal with what came after that once the spell had been broken.

* * *

"One key achieved," the dark sorcerer murmured to himself, the mirrors before him reflecting two images. One was of V, seated in his elegant tower room, deep in contemplation of a spellbook. He did not look at all as if he knew one of those precious keys now rested in his knight's hands.

The other image was of IV and Durbe, finishing the remains of their meal in silence. IV's words hadn't affected Durbe quite as much as the sorcerer would've liked. But he was not badly disturbed by this. The quest was far from over, and the future provided so many opportunities to shatter everything about Durbe, and to break anything in his lovely captives that hadn't yet been broken.

Really, he didn't know if there _was_ anything left. He'd worked hard to make certain of that. While he did enjoy watching the various people who'd made attempts to get their chosen captive free, it did on occasion interfere with more important work, and if his captives had no hope left, then he could get on with that work.

He would have to make long-term plans, he decided, just in case Durbe actually acquired the other keys. It would also be useful to know more about him, more than what he'd chosen to tell his pretty prisoners.

_I know where he came from. It's only a matter of time to trace him down more thoroughly._

In point of fact, something about the knight disturbed him. It was nothing that he could put his finger on, but it was there all the same, and he wanted to know what it was. Perhaps digging up the knight's past would provide enough information so he could figure it out.

If nothing else, it would likely provide a rich source of material to shatter those burgeoning bonds of trust. The mage liked that thought so very much. Perhaps it wasn't so bad that people wanted to rescue his captives. Otherwise he'd have to find other ways to enjoy himself.

* * *

"Here," IV said, gesturing toward a door that appeared at his command. "You can rest here."

Durbe started to get to his feet, then stopped. "Mach. I need to take care of him first." He wasn't going to let that slip away. He'd done it once, too tired to think about what was going on, but never again.

IV's lips quirked. "As you wish." Another twist of his fingers and the door changed, now appearing in designs of dark gold and red as opposed to the pale blue and white it had been before. "That will take you to your friend."

The knight didn't question it, but opened the doors to see a wondrous stable stretching out before him. There were no other steeds in here but Mach, who stood in an elegant loose box, already unsaddled, and with a fine manger full of food before him.

"Who does this?" Durbe asked even as he stepped closer to his companion, making the usual soft noises he did to let Mach know that it was him and all was safe. He noticed right away Mach hadn't touched a bit of the food. Nor was he surprised; it wasn't often the pegasus would eat when fed by the hand of others, not without Durbe's reassurance.

IV stood in the doorway, watching him. Durbe could feel those eyes on him every single moment.

"It happens with magic, of course. Your horse followed the puppets when you asked for entrance, and I thought it only polite to take care of him since I'm taking care of you as well." IV chuckled. "You should know this. He'll be taken care of just like you will be, whenever you find one of these towers. You don't need to worry about him."

Perversely, that made Durbe worry just a little more. He had not forgotten that IV had blatantly said he wasn't to be trusted. He ran his fingers carefully through the feed left in the manger, checking to make certain there weren't any strange odors or textures, and found nothing. The water also stood up to his test; clean and pure and just what Mach would need. Even the hay heaped up in the stall's corner gleamed fresh and new.

Mach brushed one wing against Durbe, reassuring him in his own fashion that all was well. Durbe ran his hands over his partner's shoulders, checked for loose feathers, and saw that some magical groom must've given Mach a good brushing, since everything was already in excellent order.

"Satisfied?" IV wanted to know. "Or are you just trying to delay going to sleep under my roof?" Amusement, far more than anger, coated his words.

"Why would I have to fear sleeping here?" Durbe wanted to know, turning back to face him, reassured more deeply by the sound of Mach having his dinner at last.

IV smiled quite mischievously at him. "I am a mage, you know. Can you imagine what I could do to you while you were asleep if I were of the mind?"

Durbe refused to give way to the fears he knew IV wanted to conjure up. Instead, he gave a shrug. "You're welcome to try. I don't think they'd compare to fighting your puppets." He paused, his next words chosen with great care. "Or with you asking for a kiss."

IV threw his head back and laughed harder than Durbe remembered hearing in his entire life. He shook his head and started past the mage, hoping to find a way into where he'd rest for the night. "I really should introduce you to Nasch. You two would get along _so_ well."

"I hope you can," IV murmured, waving his hand enough to switch where the door led. Durbe thought he heard something else, but by then, he'd already passed through, and the door vanished behind him.

**To Be Continued**


End file.
